


Through Paths Untrodden

by temporalDecay



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalDecay/pseuds/temporalDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanstuck AU. In which Kanaya Maryam deals with her roommate, her last year in college, her insecurities, her uncertain future and the realization that she's hopelessly in love with a woman nearly twice her age. There are tears and laughter and sex and secrets and misunderstandings and Christmas and paintball, and just about a little bit of everything, because love is complicated like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Paths Untrodden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sardonique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sardonique/gifts).



> For my Ladystuck prompt: 
> 
> _Miss Lalonde has a big empty house that she doesn't know what to do with and spends most of her days full of sad and booze. Kanaya is an exchange student attending the university she lectures at and is having a hard time away from her own mother for the first time. She also has a thing for older ladies who know their ways around well-stocked wardrobes. Or anything involving an older Roxy and a college-age Kanaya, just because I'm curious to see how their relationship might develop. Sadstuck with a happy ending would be just lovely._
> 
>  I tweaked it a little, but I think it still fills all the specifications, at least in spirit. It was insanely fun to write and because I'm me, it became a monstrous thing, length-wise. But I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

Kanaya looked up at the gate, as well as the house behind it, swallowing a little. Though the view was impressive in and of itself, it was rather the location that caused her nerves to flare. The forest itself seemed to melt into the grounds, and she could hear the faint sound of running water. It didn’t really help that she wasn’t feeling entirely herself, either. She took a moment to breathe deeply and put all thoughts of Vriska out of her mind, before she reached a finger to ring the doorbell. The wait after that felt almost unnaturally long, but before she could ring again, she heard faint static coming off the small speaker. 

“Yes? Who is this?” The voice was quiet and somewhat sluggish, making Kanaya fidget a little with the bracelet on her left wrist. 

“Ah. I’m Kanaya Maryam,” she forced herself to even out her tone, trying not to let the awkwardness show. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Who?” The voice sounded almost bemused, and it did no favors to Kanaya’s nerves. 

“I sent you an email, about an hour and a half ago,” she tried, smiling nervously at the speaker as if somehow the owner of that mysterious voice could see it and be reassured by it. “About my sketchbook.” 

“E-ma—oh. _Oh!_ Of course, I’m sorry.” 

“If it’s an inconvenient time, I can come back later.” _Or never_ , Kanaya thought to herself, absently folding her arms in front of her, holding her elbows and feeling supremely out of place. 

“No, no, it’s alright, darling. Please, come in.” 

The voice sounded more awake all of a sudden, alert with a touch of cheerfulness that didn’t entirely dispel Kanaya’s unease. The gate opened, though, almost expectantly. 

“Do you mind if I drive up?” Kanaya asked, feeling slightly silly for asking when the voice chuckled a little off pitch. 

“Of course, of course, I’ll come up in a moment.” 

Kanaya wondered why the woman – she was reasonably certain, now, that it was a woman – said up instead of down, but since she heard a click coming from the speaker, she was left without a chance to reply. She walked back to her car, steps short and brisk, and then let out another long sigh before starting it. She ignored the voice in the back of her mind, which sounded suspiciously like Vriska, and carefully drove up the driveway towards the entrance of what was undeniably a manor. The grass around her looked impeccably well taken care of, and everything gave off an air of pristine perfection that reminded Kanaya of the interior design magazines at her sister’s house. She parked and stepped out of the car, feeling slightly ridiculous as she locked it on reflex. 

The Grub, her car, looked decidedly out of place there, in all its lime green glory. Kanaya stared at it for a long moment, standing at the bottom of the front steps. Then she heard the front door open and turned around, gathering aplomb. And then she actually registered the woman holding the door open. 

Oh. 

“Well, come on in now,” she said, a martini glass in one hand a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t just stand there, darling.” 

Kanaya felt her cheeks color slightly as she ducked her head in embarrassment, before she climbed up the stairs a little hurriedly, skirt billowing a little with every step. She thought it odd, somehow, that the woman herself opened her front door – for there was no doubt in her mind that she was the owner – given the splendor of the whole house. But then she reminded herself that it was not her place to judge, so she buried the curiosity and walked inside, trying not to stare at her host. 

It was a little hard, and she felt somewhat silly for it, but considering she’d somehow already convinced herself that her host would be a man, the beautiful woman casually strolling ahead of her was a staggering surprise. Vriska was probably to blame for that, what with her tirade after Kanaya showed her the email informing her that her sketchbook had been found. Kanaya forcefully shoved all thoughts of her roommate out of her mind, lest she lost her temper again, and instead studied the woman leading her through the labyrinthine corridors to god knew where. She was tall and graceful, hips swaying almost teasingly with each unnaturally quiet step. Her clothes were minimalistic and almost utilitarian, in simple white and black. They made Kanaya feel like she had interrupted her during some important job somehow, despite the fact it was an early Sunday afternoon. 

“Now then,” the woman said, coming to a stop in a large, airy living room, with a bizarre wizard statue casually placed smack in the middle of it. “Kanaya, was it? I’m Roxanne Lalonde, but you’re cute, so you get to call me Roxy.” She winked at Kanaya, toasting at her with the glass. She then placed it on the bar lodged against the wall, and calmly went about mixing herself another drink. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” 

“Oh no, it’s quite alright,” Kanaya raised her hands almost on reflex, blinking rapidly as the skilled fingers went through the motions with practiced ease. “I can just take my sketchbook and leave; I would not want to impose, Miss Lalonde.” 

“Mrs. Lalonde, if you must be so boring,” she corrected her absently, pouring the liquid into the glass with a long suffering sigh. “But you should really just call me Roxy. You’re going to give me a complex, otherwise.” 

“Oh,” Kanaya said, for lack of anything better, and sort of stared at her in mute fascination. 

“I should probably apologize on behalf of my assistant, Mr. Strider,” Mrs. Lalonde, Roxy, said, leaning against the bar with an effortless elegance that made Kanaya feel clumsy and awkward all of a sudden. “He’s the one who sent you the email, I’m sure. Dreadfully passive aggressive creature, that one. So I am not actually up to date with anything you might have discussed with him, while he was impersonating me. Why don’t you bring me up to speed? And take a seat, darling, you’ll get tired just standing there. Do you mind if I call you darling? Bad habit of mine, I call everyone darling.” 

“It’s no problem, er, Mrs. Roxy,” Kanaya said, a little tentatively, trying to compromise. Roxy smiled at her, lips curving easily. Kanaya took it as encouragement enough, and then gingerly sat on one of the couches, trying to mask the way the plush surface sunk entirely too much under her weight and nearly made her lose her balance. She brushed some hair off her face before folding her hands on her lap, so as to not fidget. “There isn’t really all that much to say, really. I received your… er, Mr. Strider’s email a few days ago, though I only replied to it today. He didn’t say much, beyond the fact he… you? Had found my sketchbook, and that I could come pick it up, if I wanted.” 

In truth the email had arrived nearly a month prior, the very next day after Kanaya had realized it was missing. Though she’d been elated at first, to know it was not irreparably lost, Vriska had made her nervous enough about it that she had already resigned herself to never come get it. Even after googling the address she’d been given, Vriska’s warnings that it was probably a trap of some kind had had enough weight to make her uneasy. Ironically enough, however, she’d ended up emailing back today after storming out of the apartment in the wake of a monumental row with Vriska, needing an excuse to drive so she wouldn’t feel silly for wasting gas just by wandering around pointlessly. The knowledge that the person who had written the emails and the woman before her were not the same put her a little more at ease, since she realized the incongruences between the text and the person had been setting alarms off in her brain. Kanaya relaxed, just a little, subtly coaxed by the carefree air Roxy seemed to exude without even trying. It had something to do with the ease with which words flowed from her lips, spilling like a waterfall, slightly slurred but not enough to be incomprehensible. Kanaya suspected her host was far more intoxicated than she looked like, considering the speed at which that martini cup was being emptied. 

“I’m sorry you had to come all the way here for it, I had planned to mail it to you before I left on a business trip next week.” Roxy sounded genuinely sorry for that, which only served to make Kanaya’s face feel hot again for some reason. “It was a long drive, wasn’t it?” 

It _had_ been a long drive, all things considered. Roxy lived about an hour from the small college town that Kanaya had been calling home for the last three years. In truth, she had never actually even been on that particular road before, but given how upset she’d been after leaving the apartment, the long drive had actually been a blessing, letting her scream a little along with her music until she was back to some semblance of composure. Of course, by the time composure kicked in and she felt she was back in her right mind, she’d been at the door of Roxy’s home, just in time for the wary thoughts to come in and make everything awkward. 

“Oh no, it was not a problem, really.” Kanaya shrugged delicately. “But I am probably interrupting you, if you didn’t know I was coming. I am sorry, I’ll just leave…” 

“No, no, again with that? You’re not interrupting or imposing or inconveniencing anyone.” Roxy waved a hand at her, taking another sip of her glass. “I needed a break from work anyway, and you are much more interesting company than Mr. Strider and his tantrums.” She chuckled as the phone on the bar began vibrating the moment she finished speaking. She picked it up and tapped it a few times before putting it back on the bar, smiling to herself. “To be honest, I had hoped to meet you. I had to sort of look through your sketchbook to figure out it was yours, so I apologize for snooping, but you’re a really talented girl. Are you a student in the university?” 

“Y-yes,” Kanaya felt her blush rise to the surface, between the untimely stutter and the lavish praise. “But I’m not an artist, or anything. Really, it’s just doodles I make on my free time; I don’t really have any talent for it, honestly.” 

Roxy stared at her for a moment, blinking rapidly, before tilting her head ever so slightly to the side. 

“If it’s not rude of me to ask, what are you studying, Kanaya?” 

Kanaya sat up straighter, offering the first genuine smile. 

“Chemical engineering,” she said, sounding inordinately proud of herself. “I’ll start my last year next fall.” 

“Eeeh? A fellow engineer?” Though Roxy sounded surprised, she also seemed delighted by Kanaya’s answer, brightening even more than before. “I would have thought you were in design or art, just going by your work!” 

Kanaya laughed a little at that, nervously patting the folds of her skirt and letting her eyes rest on the small collection of wizard figurines on the low table, rather than look at Roxy. It was a common misconception that she was overly familiar with. People liked to assume things, she supposed, but there was something in the way Roxy reacted that made Kanaya feel warm. And there was nothing condescending in her comments about her artwork, either. It was certainly refreshing. 

“It’s not that good,” Kanaya said, waving a hand, oddly happy. “It’s just a hobby of mine. I’ve always loved clothes, and I really like colors and fabrics. But it’s just a silly pastime, something I play with to relieve stress sometimes.” 

“I _completely_ understand that,” Roxy replied, chuckling. “Everyone’s got their hobbies, but not everyone’s as good at them as you are, Kanaya! You could make a living out of it, if you wanted to.” 

“Oh, I would never—“ 

“I can already see it,” Roxy said suddenly, taking on a dramatic stand and waving her hand at the ceiling as if conjuring a billboard sign. “Milan, Paris, it’s all the same to the super talented designer taking the world by storm! Kanaya Miriam!” 

“Er,” Kanaya found herself staring a little, a distant part of her brain surprised that Roxy hadn’t somehow fallen and broken an ankle, given the heels she was wearing and the increasingly obvious inebriation. “It’s Maryam.” 

“Oh,” Roxy said, deflating suddenly, “I’m really bad with names, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Kanaya shrugged, feeling guilty for seemingly ruining her host’s good mood. “And, anyway! I’m not really made for the fashion world. It’s a brutal, dangerous place. Much safer and nicer in the lab.” 

Roxy let out a loud sigh and leaned against the bar again, shaking her head. 

“I can’t deny the comfort of a cozy lab, alright,” she shrugged easily, again with a paradoxical elegance that was completely at odds with the increasing signs that she was already drunk. It was vaguely entrancing. “But you’re really selling yourself short, darling.” 

“But—“ 

“Nope,” Roxy tilted back the last of her drink, smiling deviously. It made Kanaya’s blush come back with a vengeance, all of a sudden. “I’ve already decided. And Roxy Lalonde doesn’t change her mind once it’s made up, I’ll have you know! I like you.” 

_Not like **that** , you moron, she’s not a **Mrs.** for nothing!_ Kanaya thought a little despairingly, even as she came to the realization that she was already in the process of developing a monstrous crush. 

“A-ah, well,” she shrugged again, feeling supremely stupid and hating her own traitorous feelings. “You seem like a really nice person too, Mrs. Roxy.” 

“Great, so you’ll be staying for lunch, then?” 

“Eh?!” Kanaya sat up straighter. 

“Well, it’s lunch time and it’ll be a long drive home, and if you’re not drinking anything, you’ll at least let me feed you, right?” Roxy’s smile softened just a notch. “And I really do want to talk to you about your designs, they’re amazing.” 

_This is a bad idea_ , Kanaya thought, feeling oddly weightless and certain that if she’d been standing, that smile would have obliterated her knees without a problem. 

“Alright,” she sighed, a little resigned. “I’ll stay for lunch.” 

“Excellent!” Roxy clapped her hands together, oozing delight. She walked three steps then stopped, suddenly looking sheepish. “…er.” She reached for her phone again and started tapping on it at a frightening speed. “Let me just make sure there’s actual food in the house. I don’t know if Strider already restocked the kitchen.” 

Kanaya found herself biting back a laugh at that, charmed to the bottom of her feet by the whole ridiculousness of the situation. In the end, there was, in fact, food to be had, and though Kanaya politely declined to have wine with lunch, the afternoon was spent pleasantly. Roxy fluttered from topic to topic, mind seemingly undeterred by the alcohol she drank, always caught somewhere between excited and delighted in a way that didn’t really help Kanaya resist her budding crush. By the time her slurring of vowels started sounding sexy, though, Kanaya decided that was her cue to leave, and excused herself politely, somewhat surprised to find it was already dark outside. 

“Listen,” Roxy said, suddenly sounding serious, as she walked Kanaya down the steps towards her car, “would you think it creepy if I said I wanted to see you again?” Kanaya ignored the way her heart suddenly started beating a thousand times per minute. “I mean, I’d like to be friends with you, if you want! I understand that you’re young and you probably don’t have time for an old hag living in seclusion but—“ 

“I had fun today,” Kanaya interrupted her, smiling gently, arms loosely wrapped around her sketchbook. “And I would certainly enjoy talking with you again, Mrs. Roxy.” 

“I’ll be gone about a month,” Roxy said, giving Kanaya that knee-destroying smile again, and making standing upright a challenge. “After next week, and you’ll have started classes by the time I come back. But let’s try to meet again then, I promise I’ll try not to take too much of your time.” 

“I’d like that a lot,” Kanaya smiled back. “If you e-mail me when you come back, we can arrange another meeting, then.” 

“It’s a date, then!” Roxy grinned, winking and unknowingly making Kanaya’s pulse double its pace. “…except not really because we haven’t even set up a date yet, but _details_. It’s a proto-date!” 

“A proto-date,” Kanaya echoed in agreement, already cursing herself about it. 

The ride back home was full of screaming at her music, but on the upside, she couldn’t even remember why she’d been so angry at Vriska in the first place. 

  


* * *

  


The apartment was immaculate. 

Kanaya sagged against the doorframe with a quiet groan. Vriska only ever cleaned when she was too worked up to think straight about anything. Everywhere she looked, she could see signs of her roommate’s irritation. The floor was clean enough to eat off it, not a single piece of clothing or book or any other trinket cluttering it. Everything had been organized, and even the usual mess of game consoles and cables at the feet of the TV screen had been cleared up. There was not a single bowl of Cheetos or chips lying around, nor any crushed cans of red bull littering a circle around the plush futon Vriska usually curled up on to play her games. Kanaya let out a loud sigh and closed the door behind her, ignoring the oppressive silence in the apartment. Vriska was well and truly mad at her, then, if she was being _quiet_. Kanaya placed the sketchbook on the small round table in the corner of the room they called dining room, and headed for the kitchen, beyond the marble bar separating it from the rest of the main area of the apartment. Carefully, she went about boiling water to make tea and pulling out a bag of daifuku from the depths of the freezer. She put the frozen treats into a ziploc bag before submerging them into hot water. The trick was to defrost them enough to eat them, but not enough they’d heat up. Vriska was particular about her sweets. Vriska was particular about everything, really. Kanaya placed five of the sweets on a small plate and went about preparing the tea. She used Vriska’s favorite cup, careful to not spill it as she poured just the right amount of liquid. Then she placed the cup and the plate on a tray and crossed the dining room and the living room with slow, quiet steps. 

“Vriska,” she said, standing sideways to the door and bumping her hip against it to open it. “I’m coming in.” 

“Go away,” the mound of covers on the bed snapped grumpily. 

“I made you tea,” Kanaya said gently, navigating the utter chaos of the room, which seemed even messier when compared to the state of the main room. 

“I don’t want any,” Vriska whined, shuffling under her cocoon of blankets. “So go away.” 

“I brought you some sweets, too.” Kanaya went on, undeterred, as she placed the tray on the nightstand and folded herself to sit on her knees by the side of the bed. “Daifuku.” 

“Arg!” Vriska kicked the covers off, revealing a mess of dark brown curls and a squinting right eye. “That’s not how you pronounce it, stupid.” 

Kanaya smiled despite herself, folding her arms on the bed and resting her chin on them, as Vriska huffed and scowled before sitting cross legged on the bedding. She scoffed loudly, then placed the tray on her lap, and began tearing onto the offered food with a vengeance. 

“You always say that,” Kanaya said patiently, smiling up at her friend. “But when I asked you to teach me Japanese, you said you didn’t want to.” 

“That’s because you’re dumb as bricks and never pronounce anything right,” Vriska snorted, licking the filling out of one of the small cakes. 

It was fascinating watching her eat them, Kanaya thought, what with how methodical she was about it. First biting off a chunk from the top, and then squeezing all the filling out, before pulling and stretching the crust until she was done with it. Everything about Vriska was fascinating, in Kanaya’s opinion, even after she’d gotten over her original crush on her. Everything about her was full of nervous energy, all but vibrating all the time. She was loud and lewd and rude and crass, always speaking her mind and giving as good as she got. She had a reputation around campus, as the ruthless type of person no one wanted to cross or make angry, since she took such pleasure in ruining the life of anyone who messed with her. Kanaya remembered fondly now, the first days living together with her. Not only were they both dealing with the culture shock of coming into a new country, but also the constant blunders of living with someone from an entirely opposite corner of the world. Everything was different and foreign and weird, and it sometimes felt like a calculated attack. Those first months, Kanaya spent a small fortune in phone calls to her mother and bus tickets to visit her sister, trying in vain to capture a little bit of home and form some kind of refuge. 

Now, to Kanaya life here seemed the most natural thing in the world. Attending classes and cashing in on a few side jobs and going out with friends and living with Vriska. She still missed her mother dearly, having not seen her in so long, but it was a more bittersweet pain than the desperate yearning from before. 

“And it has nothing to do with your near genetic inability to teach, I’m sure,” Kanaya smiled, and dodged the hand trying to smack her face for the smartass comment, taking advantage of Vriska’s sudden closeness to wrap her arms around her shoulders. “Of course.” 

“Ew, get your slimy dyke hands off me, fuck,” Vriska whined, even as she went limp into the hug. “I don’t want your fucking gross lesbian germs on me.” 

Kanaya chuckled, taking no offense at all from Vriska’s outburst, and instead raising on her knees so she could rest the smaller girl against her shoulder. The secret to dealing with Vriska, Kanaya theorized, was to understand that she always chose the most inflammatory response possible, because if there was one thing Vriska couldn’t stand, was not getting a reaction. From what Kanaya had managed to piece together after three years living with her, Vriska wasn’t here by choice as much as because she didn’t have a place to go back home to. But one didn’t handle Vriska with pity or compassion, since her pride would not forgive it. All one could do was smile in the face of her outbursts and learn when to yield and when to bite back. 

“I’m sorry,” Kanaya whispered quietly, brushing the hair off Vriska’s face to reveal the scarred, ruined eye. She felt Vriska’s nails digging into her arms as she bent to brush her lips against it. “About earlier.” 

“Damn fucking right you should be sorry about earlier!” Vriska snarled at her, but rather than shoving her away, she slid into her lap. “Not only are you fucking stupid enough to pick up a fight with _me_ , you were gone for _hours_. Where the hell did you even go?” 

“To get my sketchbook,” Kanaya smiled and inwardly braced for the upcoming outburst. “I made a friend.” 

The ensuing tantrum ended with both sitting on the futon in the living room, where Vriska played some game or other about shooting people and screaming obscenities into the headset, while Kanaya sat behind her and carefully brushed her hair. All things considered, since no one called the cops on them – the elderly lady living in the first floor of the building seemed to have the police department on speed dial just to spite Vriska – and nothing was broken, Kanaya considered the whole ordeal a success. 

  


* * *

  


**From: Roxy Lalonde (r.lalonde@skaianet.net)**

**To: Kanaya Maryam (grimauxiliatrix@hotmail.com)**

**Subject: Beware the typos**

So, Lady Maryam, let me be your Robin Hood. Let me steal from the rich in bullshit to deliver onto you the righteous smiting powers of the old gods. We’re talking biblical levels of might I’m going to subject you to. Nothing personal, you see, I’m rather fond of you. If it were up to me, I’d keep you safe up in a tower. I’d be the dragon standing between you and a string of incompetent, self-aggrandizing, arrogant, royalty wannabes, cape included. But alas, I am forever enslaved to the Wicked Witch of the East Coast, and the game says that my princess is in another castle. 

Shit just got real as realest as it’ll ever be, and you’re going to be at the epicenter of this mountain of suckitude and I’m going to be the long suffering tragic figure who will have to put you there. I’m the Cepheus to your Andromeda, and Lalonde is both Cassiopeia and the Kraken. But we’re a cheap artsy film so we ran out of juice and never found a suitable Perseus. Sorry about that. 

S. 

\-- 

_Roxanne Lalonde._

_Skaia Net Inc., CEO_ . 

**From: Kanaya Maryam (grimauxiliatrix@hotmail.com)**

**To: Roxy Lalonde (r.lalonde@skaianet.net)**

**Subject: Re: Beware the typos**

What. 

**From: Roxy Lalonde (r.lalonde@skaianet.net)**

**To: Kanaya Maryam (grimauxiliatrix@hotmail.com)**

**Subject: Re: Beware the typos**

Boss Lady Lalonde, hereby known as BLL for added laziness, wants me to give you her pesterchum username. So you can get on with a conversation directly, without the paragon of coherentness that is yours truly serving as intermediary. 

So basically we are at the end of an era of prosperity and balance, the fire nation is invading and it’ll be a hundred years before they pull a preteen kid out of deep ice to save your ass. Nice knowing you and all. 

S. 

\-- 

_Roxanne Lalonde._

_Skaia Net Inc., CEO_ . 

**From: Kanaya Maryam (grimauxiliatrix@hotmail.com)**

**To: Roxy Lalonde (r.lalonde@skaianet.net)**

**Subject: Re: Beware the typos**

I’m afraid I do not understand what you are getting at, Mr. Strider, but part of me cannot but wonder if it will somehow involve you hacking into the lab intranet. Again. Either way, my only response is thus, if you do not mind me appropriating your personal expression of choice: 

Bring it on, bro. 

**From: Roxy Lalonde (r.lalonde@skaianet.net)**

**To: Kanaya Maryam (grimauxiliatrix@hotmail.com)**

**Subject: Re: Beware the typos**

Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kid. We’re talking typos on an apocalyptic scale here. Mayan prophecies and Nostradamus doom saying levels of what-the-fuckery to make you weep gently into your pillow every night, silently begging god to spare you a ray of light and an angelic chorus to take you out of your misery. Forget nukes, one day the US army will weaponize Lalonde’s drunken typos and the free world will never be threatened again for the maybe thirty years it’ll take them to devolve into a dystopic nightmare where even the smallest infraction is punished by sitting someone, Clockwork Orange style, and forcing them to withstand hours of Lalondeisms. Oh man, I should totally write a musical about that. 

So yeah, don’t come crying to me later, seeking my impeccable grammar and punctuation, not to mention dashing mad skills when it comes to correctly spelling words three letters long. 

tipsyGnostalgic is where it’s at, and you’re officially on your own now, kiddo. Strider Control is out, the man has left the building, let lose the dogs of war and good night. On the upside, at least she won’t care about your ridiculous capitalization habits, so my tyranny upon your rights to type any damn way you want to has been overthrown. 

S. 

\-- 

_Roxanne Lalonde._

_Skaia Net Inc., CEO_ . 

  


* * *

  


“And then someone genuinely suggested just moving to a different location.” 

Kanaya looked up at the ceiling in annoyance; something Roxy had come to realize was a habit of hers. She let out a loud sigh and took another sip of her tea. Roxy smiled a little and reached a hand to pat Kanaya’s wrist sympathetically. The girl was such a put upon creature, and Roxy couldn’t make up her mind yet, if Kanaya enjoyed her own meddling or only meddled out of inertia anymore. It was certainly a pity that people didn’t stop to listen to her more often, though, which from what Kanaya sometimes told her, was apparently the norm. Roxy knew from experience how awkward it was, to be the friend people talked _to_ , but never talked _with_. 

“But surely your professor set them straight,” Roxy offered, trying to sooth Kanaya’s irritation. 

“Well of course he did,” there was another sigh, “but he shouldn’t have to, not for something so _dumb_.” 

“I believe it is part of the job, that,” Roxy chuckled wryly, “pulling people into the right path. Another reason I never taught, I don’t have the patience for it.” There was a pause. “Or the sobriety.” 

“Well, it’s good you’ve never done it,” Kanaya said, as sullen and offended as Roxy had ever seen her, “so you don’t have to put up with such disrespect.” 

It took Roxy a moment to realize all that offended sullenness was on her behalf, for a hypothetical slight. She felt touched by the sweet gesture for perhaps, oh, three seconds, before she burst out laughing, pointing at Kanaya with the index finger of the hand holding her drink. It was, nominally speaking, a coffee. It was also 70% alcohol. 

“Strider,” she said, laugher easy and self-deprecating in a way that always rubbed Kanaya the wrong way. “Just. _Strider_.” 

“Well,” the younger woman retorted awkwardly, “that’s different.” 

“Because I pay him instead of being paid to deal with him? Well, yes, I can see your point.” She laughed again. “Is this an attempt to probe at my levels of masochism? Kanaya, I’m both flattered and excited.” 

Kanaya didn’t even flinch at that. After three months, she’d build up a considerable buffer to Roxy’s antics and rarely found herself flustered in her presence. For which she was grateful, because it made her damn crush all the more easier to ignore. In public anyway. Try as she might to rationalize it, she couldn’t help but feel attracted to the older woman. The _scandalously_ older woman, her mind was quick to point out, as Roxy was closer to forty than thirty, and Kanaya had just turned twenty one. She looked her age, though, in a nice way. She had an air of sophistication that tugged at Kanaya in all the right ways, and for all she was playful and perpetually in some state of intoxication, there was something very sweet to her that Kanaya couldn’t quite put to words. She was also completely, entirely and absolutely out of Kanaya’s league, so much it was not even funny. The only thing, Kanaya reasoned, that could possibly come from ever acknowledging her feelings, was to make a fool of herself. Possibly destroy this tentative friendship of theirs that made Kanaya feel so special, on those really frustrating days when nothing was going her way. 

“I am more interested in learning how to write off my personal entertainments as part of the company’s payroll, to be honest.” 

“Well,” Roxy grinned, “you should first own half the company, and then make sure your personal entertainment owns the other half. Makes filing taxes easier, at any rate.” 

“The retirement plan must be nice,” Kanaya deadpanned, “at the very least.” 

“The retirement plan is all about living fast, dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse,” Roxy snorted, shrugging. “So two out of three isn’t so bad.” There was the self-deprecation again, but there wasn’t much Kanaya could do about it without feeling like she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. “But anyway, we weren’t talking about me and my poor life choices. You were telling me how much you want to chainsaw your way through your classmates’ ranks.” 

“I should have never told you about the chainsaw incident,” Kanaya sighed, even as she smiled, shaking her head in mock-despair. 

“Calling it the chainsaw incident only makes it worse, you realize?” 

“As I was saying,” Kanaya said, purposely loud, “my classmates are a waste of their parents’ money and a constant challenge to my self-imposed vow to not get deported for mass murder.” 

“Do what I—“ Roxy paused, cringed and shook her head. ”Wait, no, do what _Strider_ did in college: Math, not murder.” 

“What did _you_ do in college?” Kanaya asked, lips curved into a teasing smile. 

“Gross substance abuse,” Roxy deadpanned, then toasted with her cup and finished the drink in one gulp. 

Kanaya’s laughter was interrupted by the arrival of a tall, lanky and artistically disheveled young man that summarily pulled a chair and sat almost uncomfortably close to Kanaya. Roxy arched an eyebrow and wondered if she was drunker than her usual, or if there really was a purple stripe in his hair. 

“Kan, please tell me you’ve got last of the costumes ready?” He whined, looking at Kanaya through large, pleading eyes made larger by the ridiculous glasses he was wearing. 

Far more interesting than his appearance, though, was the abrupt change in Kanaya’s demeanor. Roxy’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but no one noticed. 

“Hello to you too, Eridan,” Kanaya sighed, expression unamused. “How are you today? I’m fine, thank you.” 

“That’s great, hon, but you haven’t answered my question,” Eridan rolled his eyes at her, and Roxy suspected she wasn’t going to like him much. “This is important.” 

“Hi,” she said, offering a little wave and arching both eyebrows when he looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, as if she had just appeared out of nowhere. 

He turned back to Kanaya without answering her, and Roxy decided that no, she didn’t like this little brat one bit. Kanaya’s expression was sheer muted annoyance by then. 

“They’ll be done when they’re done, Eridan,” Kanaya said, tone just a tad frosty, “I’ll let you know then, but right now, I’m _busy_.” 

“But—“ 

“ _Good-bye_ , Eridan.” 

He huffed, but stood, and scoffed when Roxy waved at him again. Then he stomped away, nose high in the air. Roxy’s head tilted slowly to the side. 

“Charming young man,” she muttered, eying her empty cup somewhat forlornly. 

“And you haven’t even seen the cape,” Kanaya snorted and finished her own drink. 

“The what,” Roxy was not sure she even wanted to know. 

“He wears a purple, velvet monstrosity on LARP Saturdays,” Kanaya shuddered. “It hurts my soul, it looks so _garish_. Back when he and Vriska were dating, I even offered to make him something less… offensive. He declined, so on the one hand, I didn’t actually have to make him anything. On the other hand, he _still_ wears that thing.” 

“Not a friend of yours, then,” Roxy ventured a guess, waving over a waiter. “Got time for another round?” 

“If you don’t mind, yes,” Kanaya brightened up considerably, then shook her head. “He’s not a bad person, really. Just obnoxiously self-absorbed and almost always accidentally rude.” 

“How can anyone be _accidentally_ rude?” 

“By not realizing you’re being rude, and then being surprised when people get mad about it,” Kanaya grumbled, with the air of someone who’d been at the end of Eridan’s ‘accidental rudeness’ more than once. “Apparently you’re only allowed to be offended if you were _meant_ to be offended.” 

“Lovely,” Roxy said, in a tone that implied it was anything but. 

“I know,” Kanaya fingered the tips of her hair, in a little nervous habit that helped soothe her nerves. “But he’s not so bad once you get used to it. I will admit working with the theater company really helped build up a tolerance, though.” 

“I didn’t know you acted,” Roxy smiled flirtatiously. Kanaya ignored the way her insides twitched and smiled back, a little awkwardly. “My, Kanaya, you get more and more fabulous the more I get to know you.” 

“I don’t, really.” There was a pause. “Either, act or be fabulous.” Kanaya laughed slightly off-tone. “I help with the costumes for the company whenever they throw a big production.” She shrugged again, when she noticed Roxy’s pointed interest. “One of the guys in charge is part of Vriska’s cosplay group, so he knows I like sewing. I’ve been working with them since second term. It’s nothing impressive, but every so often they’ll ask for something interesting.” 

“You really do love clothes, don’t you?” Roxy’s smile softened and it made Kanaya purposely fight the urge to fidget. 

“I do,” she admitted softly, avoiding Roxy’s eyes. “I just… like making things. I am very glad to work with the theater company, Eridan and his tantrums notwithstanding. I find it very rewarding.” 

“I’m glad,” Roxy rolled her eyes. “Though you may want to tell him that he’ll never make it big in theater with an attitude like that.” 

“Oh he’s not…” Kanaya laughed. “He’s studying law.” 

“Oh.” Roxy blinked. “I feel like there’s a _Legally Blonde_ joke to be made there, somewhere, but I need more vodka to work in the hipster angle.” Kanaya snorted, somewhat unkindly, and it made Roxy grin. “As it is, you haven’t shown me what you’ve done this month and I’m feeling terribly neglected.” 

“That would be because my homework has been more interesting than anything I’ve done this month,” Kanaya sighed. “On the other hand, winter con season is coming, so you’ll get to see whatever Vriska wants for it.” 

“And maybe finally meet the infamous roommate in person, as well?” Roxy’s smile turned teasing. “You’ve told me so much about her I feel it’s almost a cosmic injustice I haven’t met her in person yet.” 

“If you want,” Kanaya said, hesitant. “She can be… a little overbearing.” 

To put it very mildly. Kanaya loved her roommate dearly, but she was no longer blind to her flaws. And while she found most of them endearing, by sheer force of familiarity, she was not deluded enough to not realize they were glaring. Plus, Roxy was really at a disadvantage already, since Vriska had already decided she didn’t like the older woman, simply because Kanaya did. It was irrational and territorial and quite dumb, all things considered. But then, that was Vriska at her worst. Kanaya knew there was more to her than just that, but very often Vriska didn’t bother to show anything but her worst to everyone around her. The weirdest thing was, Vriska somehow managed to be insanely popular for it. Kanaya would never understand that. 

“I’m getting creepy and intrusive again, aren’t I?” Roxy shrugged when Kanaya shook her head hastily. “It’s okay, I think I’m a little overbearing myself, at times.” 

“You’re not,” Kanaya insisted. “You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me.” 

“You’re a very sweet girl,” Roxy said, and Kanaya made an inhuman effort to not flinch at that _girl_ , even if it made something inside her twist uncomfortably. “I appreciate your friendship a lot, you know?” 

“I value your friendship as well, Roxy,” Kanaya smiled and swallowed back the thorny ball of feelings trying stubbornly to lodge itself in her throat, “it means the world to me.” 

  


* * *

  


“She must be very special, to have you mooning at your _phone_.” 

Kanaya startled at that, brought back to reality to find Jade peering down at her with a teasing grin. Kanaya blinked up at her, uncomprehending. It was, admittedly, a thing she did often, when it came to the Harleys. She and her cousin had the most delightful habit of breaking Kanaya’s brain in the most bizarre of ways. When she’d met them, back on her first days in both college and the country, she’d been certain it was merely culture shock, that one day she’ll figure them both out and they would stop puzzling her over every little thing. Sometimes she looked back and thought being that naïve must have been cute. 

Jade Harley was a post-doc doing her thesis on _something_ , probably something to do with nuclear physics, except no one knew for sure on what exactly. She’d become a fixture around the university, organizing this or that event and fostering the theater company with both enthusiasm and money schemes Kanaya was still not entirely sure were legal _anywhere_. But she was chirpy and kind and vaguely awkward in a very sweet way, and it was pretty much impossible to not like her. Her cousin, Jake Harley, was kind of a self-absorbed airhead, easily absorbed by whatever caught his fancy at the time, perpetually enrolling to take any shiny new class that he deemed ‘extra credit’ without ever graduating from anything. Kanaya was pretty sure you weren’t allowed to do that, but one of the infuriating things about the Harleys was how anything remotely inconveniencing like rules or regulations or _basic laws of physics_ never seemed to apply to them. Jake was also as handsome as Jade was cute, though, which earned him the easy forgiveness of the shallow, but also kind and generous to a fault, once one managed to pry his head out of his own behind, so it was hard to actively _hate_ him, no matter what he did. Together, the two ran around wreaking havoc around the university, except it was the havoc no one really minded, like ordering a stack of fifty pizzas to the library on final’s week or organizing parties for freshmen or coming up with ridiculous schemes under the pretense of funding the theater company, except they often ended up spending more than they earned. They reminded Kanaya a little of her father, spending money just for the joy of it and because that was what it was for, though from what she’d heard, they were joint heirs to an exorbitant fortune that even their grandchildren wouldn’t run out of. 

Kanaya’s own family was old and respected, and certainly affluent enough, but her own views on money where apparently different than most people’s. While her parents paid for her tuition and the basics, like rent and grocery money, she endeavored to pay for everything else by her own means. She had bought the Grub on her own money, green monstrosity that it was, and she regularly paid for the fabrics and materials for her projects without touching the allowance her parents still sent her religiously. She was too proud and too independent to really accept most gifts gracefully, a fault she was plainly aware of but which she couldn’t really bring herself to change. She liked giving, rather than receiving, and it permeated every aspect of her life. She was aware some people took advantage of that, or at least tried to, but Kanaya thought herself savvy enough about it by now. She did things on good faith anyway, and if people tried to make that a bad thing, it was on their conscience, not hers. The Harleys were usually the ones who financed most of her personal expenses, with their habit to pay generously and cut corners when it came to managing money. Kanaya tried to help them cut expenses sometimes, and she got into several arguments over pricing, every time they commissioned something from her, but it was mostly a losing battle. She contented herself with trying to keep scammers and friends for convenience at bay, though she was aware given the nature of her friends, that was a losing battle. Eridan’s sole virtue, on that respect, was how stingy he was and how willing he was to second Kanaya’s opinion when it came to money and the theater company. 

“She is,” Kanaya said eventually, dropping the phone into one of her pockets and shrugging up at Jade. “A good friend of mine.” 

She decided it was pointless to explain that she had just been trying to decipher Roxy’s typos, rather than mooning, and felt oddly protective of the little charming disasters that hid underneath Roxy’s flawless public image. No one who looked at her would guess she liked to type in bright pink and with enough typos to make chatting with her an exercise on cryptography. From what Kanaya had gathered, Roxy was a very private person, and she felt warm when she thought about being allowed to see more than everyone else. 

“Oooh, do I know them?” Jade’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Is she a new girlfriend? You need a new girlfriend, Kanaya, I can set you up with someone nice if you want.” 

“That’s very kind of you, but it won’t be necessary,” Kanaya laughed, shaking her head. “We’re not dating, she’s just a good friend.” 

“Man, you’re so boring sometimes.” Jade shook her head and rolled her eyes. “But fine! I won’t be a meddling meddler. Just promise to introduce me at some point, yeah? All your friends should be my friends, too!” 

Kanaya chuckled a little awkwardly, shrugging. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Sweet,” then Jade turned away to talk with someone else, fluttering like a butterfly from one person to another to check on them before the meeting could start. 

In the end, Kanaya was pleased to know everyone loved her costumes, even Eridan, who was fussy about every little thing. Rehearsals were rescheduled, but from then on Kanaya’s role on the company would be mostly as spectator and stand-in for the audience, as well as to help with any last minute thing that needed fixing. It worked well with her class workload and made her feel useful, though she always felt a little distant from the other members of the company, perhaps because she never got too involved with the acting process herself. It was nice enough, though. 

After the meeting was done, Jade and Jake invited everyone out for lunch, which Kanaya was not allowed to refuse. She spent the rest of the afternoon, trying to fit into the conversation, but by the time dessert rolled around, it had shifted to schoolwork. Since most of them were either Art or English students, they shared classes and professors, and Kanaya felt distinctly at loss as to whether she should comment or not. She excused herself shortly afterwards, and on the way home bought a box of honey cookies from the local bakery, intent on eating through it along with a nice cup of tea and her homework. 

All in all, it was a very nice day. 

  


* * *

  


In the end, after much gashing of teeth and copious pleading for Vriska’s best behavior, Kanaya invited Roxy over for lunch the weekend after Thanksgiving. 

She chose lunch to hopefully maintain a neutral atmosphere, as well as to keep the worst of Vriska’s snide remarks in check. Of course that didn’t mean she didn’t spend the entire week fretting over what to serve and the general state of the apartment. She kept telling herself she was being ridiculous, of course, since it was just a little lunch between friends, but she couldn’t help but want to impress Roxy somehow. Kanaya was, at the core, a fiercely proud creature, and as much as she liked and continued to steadily fall in love with Roxy, she couldn’t help but resent a little the way she made her feel like she had to measure up. 

Kanaya was no stranger to fighting for recognition. Having lived all her life in the shadow of her sister and her careless perfection, Kanaya was intimately familiar with feelings of inferiority and inadequacy. She had felt stupid about them, once Porrim married and left their parent’s house – and eventually, their country – and she realized all she had lost due to her own insecurities. At the same time, she had found a strange feeling in coming to college so far away from everything she’d always known. Suddenly it didn’t matter that everything Kanaya did, Porrim had done earlier, faster and better, because no one knew Porrim or even cared enough to ask about her. Suddenly Kanaya was all people judged her for, and she hated and loved the distance, because it had allowed her to embrace her independence and autonomy. She felt stupid for the resentment she had harbored for her sister all those years, now that the distance had helped bring them together by allowing them limits and respect. And she felt stupid for feeling threatened by Roxy, and that strange way she had to make her feel like a child some times. She wanted to make a good impression and show her that even if she wasn’t as successful or rich or beautiful as her, there was nothing wrong with being herself. Kanaya acknowledged the irrationality behind those feelings, of course, given that Roxy repeatedly told her how much she admired her, and how both her actions and her words betrayed a deep, effortless respect that made Kanaya feel special and smitten and silly. But knowing feelings were irrational didn’t make them go away, so the best Kanaya could do was shove them aside and focus on productive things. 

So she cleaned the apartment and hunted down ingredients and nagged Vriska to be nice, and come Sunday morning, she woke up bright and early and began to work on lunch. She could almost hear her mother in the back of her mind, quietly and lovingly giving instructions and constantly reminding her that truly good food came from the effort and feelings put into them. She hummed while she mixed and tossed and fried and boiled, an easy smile on her lips as the familiar scents rose from the stove and carried with them whispers of memories from home. 

At quarter to noon, she was done with the food and went to get ready. She showered and dressed, choosing a simple yet elegant jade green dress that made her eyes stand out. Vriska crawled out of her room while Kanaya was busy fixing her hair. 

“I still don’t get why I have to sit through your date with your damn sugar mama,” she said irritably, shooing Kanaya out of the bathroom so she could shower in peace. 

Kanaya resisted the urge to tell her it wasn’t a date, if only because it’d make Vriska’s teasing worse. She knew, however, that on some level, she _was_ treating the whole affair as a date. She’d made her peace with it, though. They’d have lunch, and hopefully Vriska wouldn’t send Roxy screaming for the hills, and maybe after a cup or two of that nice wine she’d talked Eridan into getting for her, well… Maybe she and Roxy could have a mature, grown up conversation about feelings and friendships. Kanaya was no stranger to rejection, but she thought, now that she knew her better, that Roxy would not hold it against her, as she’d originally feared. And maybe once she acknowledged her feelings and got properly rejected, she’d be able to move on. That was what mature adults did, after all, and above everything else, she wanted to prove to Roxy that she was a mature adult capable of having meaningful friendships, instead of a hormone-addled teenager who let her feelings screw her over all the time. 

By one, the food was ready and Vriska, in a surprising show of solidarity, emerged from her room wearing a rather fetching blue blouse and a black skirt, her hair held in place by a white spider web hairpin. She sat on the couch and started a campaign in one of her games, pretending not to notice the grateful smile Kanaya gave her for her trouble. For her part, Kanaya entertained herself with fixing last minute details, like the flowers. 

By two, the food was rapidly getting cold and Kanaya debated calling Roxy’s cellphone. She checked on her contact list but found her offline, and reasoned it was probably just traffic holding her back. 

By three, Vriska started whining about being hungry and playfully asked Kanaya if she hadn’t told Roxy dinner by mistake or Freudian slip. 

By four, Kanaya’s call got sent straight to voicemail. 

By five, Vriska had changed back into her usual clothes and given Kanaya an ultimatum: either feed her or let her go out to forage for food. They ended up eating reheated food in a terse silence, after which Vriska left the apartment without a word. 

By six, resigned to the fact she’d been stood up, Kanaya began packing away the food with slow, methodical movements. Then she went to her room and changed out of her dress into more comfortable clothes and tried again to call Roxy, both at home and at her cellphone. She sent her a message through pesterchum, though she was offline, and then opened up her e-mail. She stared at the blinking cursor for a minute, trying to focus on the worry instead of the hollowness trying to eat her whole. 

By seven, the e-mail was still blank, and Kanaya found herself curled up in bed, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t nearly as disappointed as she actually felt. 

By eight, she decided she was as disappointed as she felt, and quite hurt by it too. She put on earphones and turned to her homework viciously, and tried, in vain, to feel angry rather like she was about to cry. 

Around midnight, she called her mother and talked to her about everything but what was bothering her the most. She fell asleep feeling oddly proud for not crying, even if every fiber of her being wanted to. 

At three in the morning, her cellphone beeped as a long awaited message came in. Kanaya, already deeply asleep, dreamed of thunderstorms and the sea instead. 

  


* * *

  


timaeusTestified began pestering grimAuxiliatrix

TT: Hey.   
TT: I’m sorry I wasn’t there to answer your texts, that was the one day of the year I’m actually AFK.   
TT: Are you okay?   
GA: I Am Alright   
TT: …she didn’t show, did she.   
GA: No. But She Is Your Employer And I Would Not Want To Put You In An Uncomfortable Situation.   
TT: Honestly, I am an uncomfortable situation, you don’t have to worry about that.   
TT: I’m sorry.   
GA: Whatever For?   
TT: Because she hurt your feelings and I wasn’t there to tell her to stop.   
GA: It Is Not Your Fault And There Were No Feelings Hurt   
TT: Maryam, you are a terrible liar and you should stop trying, it’s embarrassing to watch.   
TT: Statistically speaking, anyone would have been hurt if they had been stood up like that.   
TT: It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, though it doesn’t hurt that I am one.   
TT: I hope you haven’t forgotten about that.   
GA: How Could I, When You So Helpfully Remind Me As Often As Possible   
TT: Good.   
TT: Now, I make a living out of being the Devil’s advocate, but just this once, I want to make it clear I’m doing it out of purely personal interest.   
GA: Meaning What, Exactly?   
TT: Meaning I mean it when I say I like you.   
TT: You’re good for Lalonde and I think, bizarrely enough, that she might not be entirely noxious for you.   
TT: So strap down, because the Strider’s in the house and he’s about to meddle like he’s never meddled before.   
GA: That Is Wholly Unnecessary   
TT: I don’t care, I’m doing it anyway.   
TT: It’s very efficient meddling, really, like everything I do, it won’t take long.   
GA: Indeed   
TT: See, I’m not going to tell you it wasn’t a shitty thing Lalonde did, standing you up like that.   
TT: But it is sort of justified, or at least she has a very good reason for it.   
GA: I Would Love To Know It, Then   
TT: I’m sure you would, but I won’t tell you.   
GA: You Are Not Very Good At This Meddling Thing   
TT: Shut up, I am simply the best there is at everything ever, it’s a mathematically proven truth.   
GA: Strider   
TT: But I won’t tell you because it’s private and I literally can’t, anyway. But that’s okay, because if I could and did tell you, it wouldn’t be elegantly efficient meddling.   
TT: And as we’ve established before, everything I do is efficient and elegant and awesome.   
TT: So I’m just going to ask you a question, okay?   
GA: Very Well   
TT: Have you realized that Roxy knows you better than you know her?   
TT: And have you ever wondered why that might be?   
GA: What   
TT: Think about that.   
TT: And maybe ask a few questions of your own.   
TT: In person, if it’s all the same to you.   
GA: You Want Me To Go See Her?   
TT: That is an excellent idea that you just had, entirely on your own without any input from me at all.   
GA: You Don’t Say   
TT: I do say!   
TT: Now chop-chop, be on your way. Go do whatever you came up and make certain not to mention me at all.   
TT: It’s not like I’m going to open the door for you or anything.   
GA: Are You Telling Me To Break And Enter Into Her Home?   
TT: I’m inviting you over to check on her as a fellow concerned friend.   
GA: Really   
TT: Really. Except I will deny all involvement under the pain of death.   
GA: What A Gentleman   
TT: Hey, desperate times invoke desperate measures.   
TT: It’ll be fine, though.   
GA: Very Well   
GA: But I Am Fully Expecting You To Bail Me Out Of Jail If The Worst Comes To Pass   
TT: Thank you. Don’t worry, that won’t be necessary. 

timaeusTestified ceased pestering grimAuxiliatrix

  


* * *

  


When she arrived, the gate opened before she could even get out of her car to ring the doorbell. She stared at it a little, before cautiously driving up to the front steps. The lights were out and the house took on a somber, almost macabre look without them. Kanaya stared at the door for a moment, trying to put her thoughts in order, before she tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. Kanaya took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

“Hello?” She called, as she stepped into the dark corridor, “Roxy?” 

She heard a sound coming from the living room. After a moment, she gathered up her courage and, acutely aware of what a stupid thing she was doing, she made her way towards it. She found Roxy thrown on one of the couches, as long as she was, sprawled in a drunken heap that made her insides twitch unpleasantly. 

“Roxy?” Kanaya tried again, stepping closer and then stopping as she realized there were shards of glass all over the carpet, from where more than one bottle was violently broken. The room started to paint the very unappealing picture of a violent, drunken tantrum. Careful not to step on the glass, and ignoring the stench of spilled alcohol everywhere, Kanaya reached to place a hand on Roxy’s shoulder. “It’s me, Kanaya.” 

“Kanaya?” Roxy startled, voice dragging on the vowels and sounding parched. She rolled on her side enough to squint up at Kanaya. “What are you—oh. Oh, I am. I’m so sorry, I had to—“ 

“Shh,” Kanaya said, rubbing on that shoulder in what she hoped was a soothing way, feeling strangely moved by the sheer misery painted all over Roxy’s face. “It’s okay.” 

It wasn’t, really. She was hurt and angry, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny the fact she felt a pressing, burning urge to wrap up the older woman in a blanket and try to make her feel better. There was nothing sophisticated or graceful about her, right then. Her clothes, which Kanaya quietly panicked over because those were definitely sleeping clothes and they made her feel like she was stepping well into none-of-your-damn-business territory, were in disarray. Her hair was a knotted mess and her eyes were red. Feelings were complicated and bothersome, so she decided to help Roxy first and then sort them out later. 

“I didn’t want to stand you up,” Roxy said quietly, shifting her legs so Kanaya could sit on the couch with her. She pulled them up as she curled up, until she was resting her chin on her knees. “I really didn’t mean to leave you hanging.” 

“What happened?” Kanaya asked, despite seeing evidence of it all around her, feeling oddly young and unprepared to handle the situation. 

“I looked at the date,” Roxy said, smiling with an infinite sadness that tore at Kanaya’s heart. “I didn’t… I never think of it until it’s there. I never make plans on that day because I know I won’t get anything done, but I had already agreed to meet you and all. I was setting out my clothes and then I looked at the clock and saw the date and it just. I’m so sorry, I should have known better than to start drinking, but I figured one before I left wouldn’t hurt. For courage. And then it became two and three and six and before I knew it, it was already dark outside.” 

Kanaya didn’t know what to say about that, so she saved herself the embarrassment and said nothing at all. Somehow, she ended up with Roxy’s face pressed against her shoulder, absently fingering her hair. She felt at loss for what to do, except offer quiet comfort. She felt herself panic slightly as she felt her shirt get damp from tears. 

“My baby would have turned ten,” Roxy sobbed hoarsely, with raw pain that left Kanaya feeling lost and breathless. “And I should be over it by now, but every year all I can think of is everything she never got to do because it’s her birthday and she’s _dead_.” 

She held onto the crying woman, weightless and afraid, but certain that she couldn’t let go of her now. She held onto her even as the sobbing raised pitch into wailing, and even as the fingers holding her back dug in to the point of pain. She held on, for god knew how long, feeling both uncomfortable and unfit and worthless, because what on earth could she hope to do to soothe even a fraction of that? But she didn’t run away, even if she wanted to, because in the back of her head she heard her mother and her sister and repeated the words she’d heard them say countless of times before: Maryams don’t run, Maryams don’t cry, Maryams endure. Endure. For the first time in her life, Kanaya thought she might understand what the word actually meant, arms wrapped around a woman nearly twice her age and with the scars to match. 

She didn’t know how long she sat there, until Roxy quieted down and Kanaya realized she’d passed out again. Kanaya settled her down on the couch, and looked around the room in despair. She could leave, of course, but she didn’t feel comfortable leaving Roxy on her own like that. She took a moment to calm down, then another moment to promise herself to yell at Strider at some point in the future, and then decided that all things considered, it wasn’t that terrible an infraction to go rummaging around a friend’s house for cleaning supplies, not after all that had just happened. So she took a leaf out of Vriska’s book on how to deal with things you absolutely refuse to deal with and set about cleaning up the living room. She plucked the broken glass from the carpet and swept and mopped and then sat on the couch, panting a little and deciding that what worked out for Vriska clearly didn’t work out for her. Kanaya sighed and went to nose about Roxy’s kitchen instead. 

“You must think I’m pathetic,” Roxy said some time later, voice hoarse as she stood by the doorway, watching Kanaya busy herself at the stove. 

Kanaya startled at the sound, but tried to hide it as best she could, instead turning to look at Roxy with a patient, tired smile. 

“Don’t be silly,” she said, somewhat crisply, “or at least, not that type of silly.” 

“But—“ 

“I am,” Kanaya interrupted, putting down a wooden spoon and squaring off her shoulders almost imperceptively, “truth be told, rather cross with you, Mrs. Lalonde.” She swallowed hard, as Roxy flinched. “I worked hard, yesterday, because I wanted you to see my home and meet my roommate. I wanted us to have a good time.” She took a deep breath. “And it hurt my feelings when you didn’t show up.” 

“I just—“ 

“But,” Kanaya raised a hand, holding desperately onto the momentum of the speech she’d been rehearsing in her head since Roxy passed out, “but the thing is, I’m not a child. I understand things sometimes don’t work out like we want them to, that plans fall through without warning. And I want to think you didn’t do it out of malice.” Roxy shook her head. “Then… then maybe we can reschedule. You can make it up to me that way and…” 

She gasped as she found herself enveloped in Roxy’s arms. It was a little uncomfortable, given the angle, but she still felt her eyes dampen a little when cool lips pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Roxy said, as she pulled back. “You are the sweetest friend.” 

Kanaya smiled a little awkwardly at that, blinking back the unwanted tears, and shrugged. 

“It is rather presumptuous of me,” she said, folding her arms over her belly. “You’re a grown woman and I admire you and value your friendship. And,” she licked her lips nervously. “It might not be my place to ask, so I won’t. But… if you want to talk about things, I’m willing to listen. I’m just—“ 

“I would like to tell you,” Roxy said abruptly, smile somewhere between sad and hopeful, “about my Rose. About a lot of things, really.” She shrugged. “I… there’s so much I’d like to tell you, really, but it feels needy and pathetic of me, not to mention unfair to you. You’re young, and you have your friends and your life, and what am I? An old hag with an empty house and a never ending supply of vodka and bad jokes. I’m taking advantage of your kindness, here, and you should be aware of it. You don’t have to deal with any of this, no one has to deal with any of this but me—“ 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

The silence in the room was deafening. 

Roxy blinked as Kanaya slowly put her face in her hands, silently wishing to disappear. Of all the stupid things to say, she had to say _that_. All her careful rationalizations, all her careful planning. Of course, emotions were running high and they were both slightly off balance, given the circumstances, but that didn’t excuse blurting it out like that. When she couldn’t bear the weight of the silence anymore, she looked up from her hands to find Roxy staring at her with a thunderstruck expression, seemingly at a loss for words. 

“I should leave,” Kanaya said quickly, moving to the door. 

“Wait,” Roxy said, a little shrilly, standing in her way. “Wait, I. Fuck. _Fuck_ , I need a drink. Shit. Hold on.” 

Kanaya winced at the swearing, so novel and jarring coming out so easily from Roxy’s lips. She found herself rooted on the spot as Roxy stalked around the kitchen, aimless and purposeful all at once. Then she came to stand before Kanaya again, looking somewhere between disturbed and shocked. 

“I’m sorry,” Kanaya whispered miserably, feeling hollow and stupid and childish all over again. 

“Don’t be, oh darling, I…” Roxy ran a hand through her hair nervously, wincing as her fingers got caught in the tangles still there. “I’m… flattered? Surprised? I don’t know. Shit.” There was another pause, during which they looked at each other almost expectantly. “This is awkward.” 

“Terribly, and I apologize,” Kanaya tried again, resisting the urge to bury her face into her hands again. “I don’t know why I said that, it was horrible timing on my part, if you excuse me…” 

“No, please don’t leave like this,” Roxy pleaded, at loss for what to do herself. “I just… I need to not be hangover when we talk about this, sorry.” 

The fact she said when, not if, registered in Kanaya’s brain before anything else. She stomped on the thought and the hope that came with it as ruthlessly as possible, instead embracing the guilt at making Roxy’s day even worse. 

“Let’s reschedule,” Roxy said, just before Kanaya could start hyperventilating, “like you said. I need to make it up to you and we have a lot of things to talk about and that could work, right? Would that be alright?” 

“Yes,” Kanaya said, because what else could she say? There were precious few things Roxy could ask of her right at that moment, that she would deny her. “Alright.” 

“Good.” Roxy took another deep breath and released it slowly and measuredly. “Alright. You made food, right?” 

“I. Yes, I assumed you’d be hungry when you woke up,” Kanaya replied, uncertain. “I’m sorry for taking such liberties with your kitchen, I’ll just—“ 

“No, it’s okay. Good. We can eat. And talk about things. Other things, I mean. We can put that conversation on hold and just have a nice, relaxed meal and calm down and think straight and would that be alright?” 

Conversation was stilted and there was nothing calm or relaxed about the meal that followed, but Kanaya stayed. She stayed far longer than she reasonably should have, but when she left, she and Roxy had at least agreed to meet again in two days’ time to straighten things out. Kanaya couldn’t really tell whether that was a good thing or not, so in the end she popped a sleeping pill to stop herself from staying all night up thinking about it. 

Not, however, before writing Strider a lengthy, angry e-mail. 

  


* * *

  


“I suppose,” Roxy began, once the waiter left, “that you being you, you’ve already thought up all the possible sides to actually dating someone like me.” 

“If I am to be perfectly honest,” Kanaya replied, tentatively, “I didn’t really get far enough to contemplate dating.” She fiddled with her bracelet, careful not to meet Roxy’s inquisitive gaze. “I had originally intended to come clean with my feelings, if only so I could get over them at my own pace.” 

“You want me to reject you?” Roxy’s head tilted to the side, almost birdlike. 

There was a sharpness in her now, that Kanaya had never seen before, but which she supposed could be attributed to the fact she was perfectly sober for the first time since Kanaya had met her. Sharp and observant and poised, not unlike a snake, though not threatening. It was a little thrilling, to be honest, and Kanaya was not entirely sure how to handle it. She’d come to the restaurant straight from class, much like Roxy had from work, so there wasn’t anything particularly fancy about their meeting. There was also nothing to shield her from the potential awkwardness that was sure to come, but like pulling at a scab, Kanaya had decided to go through with it with as much aplomb as she could muster. 

“Not really,” she said, finally looking up, expression unintentionally demure. “But I expected it.” 

“So then why confess at all?” Roxy tried to not sound unkind, but the question was, in its very nature, unkind. 

“Because it’s how I feel,” Kanaya shrugged delicately, “and I owe it to myself, if not to you, to be honest about it. That you would even consider dating me, despite all the possible complications, is both flattering and a little scary.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever really dated anyone before,” Roxy admitted a little sheepishly, smile self-deprecating. “I mean, I’ve had my share of flings, of course, men and women, and there’s Dirk and my children but. It’s complicated.” She seemed to weight Kanaya’s expression for a moment, before continuing. “When Dirk and I founded Skaia Net, we were both fresh out of college, with all these ideas and plans. We’ve always been good friends, he and I, and when Skaia Net became a success, I don’t know. We thought maybe starting a family would be a good idea. I can’t really say if we were in love with each other, or not, and we never got married, but we have always been a great team.” She reached for her glass and took a long sip of her drink, which Kanaya noted was not alcohol, either. She didn’t know what to make of that. “The year our OS sales made a solid dent into the market, I got pregnant, and that winter I gave birth to twins, Rose and Dave.” She took another deep breath, steadying herself, and Kanaya found herself holding her hand before she could really think about it. Roxy squeezed her fingers, smile a little shaky. “A year later, Rose got sick. When she… passed, things began falling apart, and I was in no state to take care of Dave. I asked Dirk to take him and leave.” 

“Why?” Kanaya, whose family stuck together through thick and thin and would rather murder than to abandon each other, felt herself staring and wishing she could stop. 

“Because I was a wreck and it was hurting everyone.” Roxy shrugged again. “Or maybe I just wanted to lick my wounds in private and mourn my daughter on my own. I don’t even know anymore but by spring the following year, Dirk and Dave were settled in Houston. They’re still there. I visit on holidays and try not to get too much in the way of how Dirk raises our son. We’re still friends, of course, and he still owns half of Skaia Net and sometimes gets into gigantic rows with me over new products and investments. What I’m trying to say,” Roxy frowned a little, staring down at her glass. “Is that I don’t know what I’m trying to say except I’m an old hag with an awkward family situation and if that hasn’t sent you screaming into the hills, I don’t know what to say. I am literally the old cat lady, Kanaya, it is me.” 

Kanaya took a moment to absorb all that, staring at her hand still holding Roxy’s and feeling a strange weightlessness in her very bones. What was she doing? She didn’t know. But she was going to do it, anyway. 

“I didn’t know you have a cat,” she said, somewhat stupidly. She laughed a little, shrugging. “I just. I like you a lot. I like the way you laugh and the way you tease and the way you ramble on about things when you’re nervous or excited. I think you’re elegant and dignified, even if you’re drunk most of the time.” She sucked in another sharp breath. “And I’m just a stupid girl who hasn’t seen or done anything noteworthy in my entire life, but you always make me feel like I matter.” 

“You do matter, darling,” Roxy smiled kindly. “And I keep telling you, you need to stop selling yourself so short all the time.” 

“What I’m trying to say,” Kanaya went on, ignoring Roxy’s words, or else she’d get stuck in a loop of apologizing and stuttering, “is that I care about you. And our friendship matters to me more than my feelings, so if they make you uncomfortable, I understand.” 

“They don’t, really,” Roxy reassured her, shaking her head. “They mostly mystify me, and I’m not really sure what to do about them. I like you, Kanaya, I really do, but I’d be lying if I said it’s romantic. I’ve been trying so hard to keep this friendship from falling into a ditch of creepy, predator territory that I haven’t really even considered you in that light.” There was a small, meaningful pause. “But… I wouldn’t really be opposed to exploring the possibility. If you really want to.” 

“I do.” 

Kanaya felt herself flush as Roxy raised their hands so she could press a small kiss to Kanaya’s knuckles. 

“Then I suppose I just got myself a pretty girlfriend, then?” 

Kanaya nodded, not really trusting herself to speak without blurting out something wholly embarrassing. 

  


* * *

  


“I think we’re doing this dating thing wrong,” Roxy mused out loud, chuckling when Kanaya tapped her back with a finger. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be working on getting me naked, not the other way around, at least.” 

Kanaya made a muffled noise in the back of her throat, and barely kept herself from spitting out the mouthful of pins caught between her teeth. She tried to work quickly, keeping herself professional as she took Roxy’s measurements and absently pinned down the folds of cloth here and there. It was a very pretty dress, Kanaya admitted, and it suited Roxy well, but it wasn’t as well made as one would expect, which was evidenced in the fact it’d nearly fallen apart after Roxy gave three steps in it. To be honest, Kanaya was more worried about fixing it, than taking advantage of her girlfriend’s current state of undress. But that was probably because she was used to touching people like this, when taking measurements, and because she was also too busy feeling butterflies at the word girlfriend, even in her mind, to really ponder much about anything else. 

Vriska had been an absolute terror when she’d shared her news, ranting up and down about Roxy and Kanaya and Kanaya and Roxy for nearly two days straight. Kanaya figured it was concern, rather than anything else, what had Vriska reacting that way, but she knew better than to outright ask. Instead, she concentrated on pacifying her irate roommate and not failing her classes and maybe try and figure out what being Roxy’s girlfriend really entitled. So far, though, their first official date was not going very well. Or maybe it was, Kanaya hadn’t really made up her mind about that, yet. 

“There,” she said, putting in the last pin and stepping back to look at the dress speculatively. “Now let me help you out of that, so you don’t pinch yourself, and I’ll have it fixed by next week.” 

“Oh, Kanaya, oh!” Roxy teased, even as she held perfectly still while Kanaya slid the dress off her. “You’re blushing~” 

“I am not,” Kanaya retorted, even though she knew she was, and folded the dress while carefully avoiding to look at Roxy. 

“You are and it’s cute!” Roxy laughed in delight. 

“I’m not and you should get dressed,” Kanaya said, in her most stern tone, staring at the wall. 

She swallowed hard when Roxy saw fit to drape herself on her back instead. Kanaya was, for all she meddled, very mindful of people’s personal space. She made a habit not to touch anyone she didn’t know well and preferred to use words, rather than her hands, to coax people. Roxy, on the other hand, much to Kanaya’s chagrin, saw absolutely nothing wrong with invading her personal space, in private and in public. Kanaya admitted it was nice to hold hands with her, and she certainly didn’t mind the hugs or the occasional brush against her shoulder, but Roxy also enjoyed to press herself against her from behind and to rest her head on her shoulder when they sat in a couch. They’d been dating for barely a week and already Kanaya was feeling flustered about the amount of attention Roxy could dote on her. It wasn’t that she minded, exactly. She liked touching Roxy and she liked it when Roxy touched her, but she’d promised herself she’d take things slow and every time she felt the swell of Roxy’s breasts against her back or her side, she found it hard to keep her mind in the right track. 

She was attracted to Roxy in a sexual way, and she knew Roxy didn’t exactly find her hard to look at, but everything was so tentative and awkward still, that she didn’t want to rush yet another thing. 

“You’re too serious sometimes, darling,” Roxy said after a moment, stepping back. Kanaya missed the warmth at once, but bit the inside of her lip instead. “But I like that about you. And I’ve been dying to see the designs you made for the play.” 

“I think you’re adventurous enough for both of us,” Kanaya said, looking over her shoulder to give Roxy a shy smile. “I’ll wait for you downstairs, if that’s alright with you.” 

The play was a moderate success, though Roxy was more interested in the clothes than the plot and Kanaya was more interested in Roxy’s reactions than the play itself. She preened a little under the praise, feeling warm and happy as they concluded their date with a light dinner at the same café where she’d lost her sketchbook, months before. She kept getting distracted by the glint in Roxy’s eyes as she shifted from one topic to the next, and found herself looking at her from an entirely new perspective. All part and parcel of being hopelessly smitten by someone, she supposed. It was a little frightening, perhaps, how much she felt for Roxy and how fast she continued to fall for her, caught in some sort of inertia that spiraled around the older woman all the time. But she trusted Roxy to at least be honest with her, if nothing else, and that helped keep any nagging fear in check. 

“I think we can safely declare that a success,” Roxy said, as Kanaya drove up to the front steps of her house. 

Roxy didn’t drive, her one concession to social responsibility given her usual state of intoxication, so from the very beginning, it had fallen onto Kanaya’s shoulders to drive them around the small town. Roxy was under the delusion that Kanaya’s car was the cutest thing in the world, too, so that at least helped. 

“It was very fun,” she said, as she turned off the engine and turned to give Roxy a content smile. 

“That’s good,” Roxy nodded, then frowned a little. “Only, I think we’re missing the traditional date closure procedure.” 

Kanaya swallowed hard. 

“Are we?” 

“Not really, but I’ve been meaning to get an excuse for this,” Roxy shifted in her seat, so she could lean in into Kanaya’s space. “So play along?” 

“Always,” Kanaya whispered, just as she tilted her head slightly, allowing their lips to touch. 

It was tentative at first, but then someone, though Kanaya couldn’t tell who, deepened the kiss just enough to make it straddle the line between sexy and awkward. She was too busy kissing the girlfriend she was so helplessly in love with, though, to bother with any kind of revelation on the nature of their relationship. 

“I think,” Roxy whispered back, as they slid apart, “that I might be able to pull off this dating business.” 

“That is excellent news,” Kanaya mused almost sardonically, knowing she was probably mooning at Roxy and not particularly caring at the moment. 

Roxy’s smile shifted, becoming less pronounced a more vulnerable, as she looked at Kanaya with something like wonder. 

“Call me before you leave for the holidays, alright?” 

Kanaya nodded. 

“Alright.” 

She waited until Roxy made her way up the steps before starting up the car again, and then drove all the way home humming under her breath. 

  


* * *

  


“This is a terrible idea,” Kanaya said, for the umpteenth time, as she and Roxy waited in line to pass through airport security. 

“Most of my ideas are pretty consistently terrible, yes,” Roxy said with a careless shrug, “but not letting my girlfriend spend the holidays alone is not one of them, I should think.” 

Kanaya made a small sound in the back of her throat and shuffled a little, not sure what to retort to that. When she’d told Roxy that her plans to spend the holidays with her sister had abruptly fallen through, she hadn’t expected to get all but bullied into flying down to Texas with her instead. Part of Kanaya was scandalized. She hadn’t been dating Roxy for even a month, surely this kind of trip was wholly inappropriate. Part of her was secretly relieved, though, because Vriska was gone, as were most of her friends, and the prospect of a week all on her own was not an appealing one. Much like with everything else relating to Roxy, she felt uncomfortable and thrilled all at once, to the point she wondered if she should have just resigned herself to emotional turmoil as an integral part of their relationship. At least she’d managed to convince Roxy to let her pay for her own flight ticket, which had turned out to be the hardest part of agreeing to the trip. She wondered, as stepped onto the TSA scan, if that counted as their first fight. Then decided she was being remarkably asinine and told herself to stop thinking about trivialities like that. 

The flight itself was uneventful and before she realized it, they were touching down in Houston. Roxy had slept most of it off, but Kanaya couldn’t really sleep on any moving vehicle, so she’d attempted to watch a movie instead. She was pretty sure she spent the entirety of the flight staring at the little screen, with the headphones on and all, but if asked, she would have been at loss as to what movie she watched or even what it was about. All too soon, for her tastes, they picked up their bags and headed for the doors. Suddenly, Kanaya felt small and insecure all over again, as the enormity of who exactly she was going to meet sank in properly into her mind. It was one thing, she supposed, to chat with the man on occasion, trading quips and little jabs every now and then. It was another to meet him face to face, not to mention meeting his _son_ , who was also her _girlfriend’s_ son. She wanted to think she wouldn’t screw it up, that it would be alright, but she couldn’t deny it was a big step and that for all her intentions to keep things simple and slow paced, this entire relationship was oddly off sync with her expectations. It was new and exciting, yes, but part of Kanaya kept expecting it to crash and burn somehow. 

And then, before she could send herself into a proper panic, the man was there. Tall, well-built and wearing the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses she’d ever seen on someone’s face outside of one of Vriska’s animes. He was also wearing a Santa hat on top of a regular baseball cap. If Kanaya didn’t know any better and weren’t actively looking for hints on the contrary, she’d have probably mistaken him for a kid her age. And then he spoke. 

“Lalonde,” he said, almost curtly, nodding in greeting, then tilting his head to look at her. “Lalonde’s crazy hot, sexy girlfriend.” 

Kanaya’s abrupt, surprised laughter burst just as the bubble of not-panic disintegrated. It was Strider, it would be alright. 

“Very nice to finally put a face to all that red text, Mr. Strider,” Kanaya said brightly, smiling at him almost slyly. 

He stared. She couldn’t even see his eyes through the sunglasses, but she knew, right away, that he was staring. It went on long enough that Kanaya’s smile began to feel strained, and her not-panic began to quickly turn back into full panic again. 

“Lalonde, did you forget to tell your girlfriend who exactly your assistant _is_?” 

Kanaya spied Roxy grinning deviously, and was left with the impression that she’d just become a pawn in a complicated game of trolling. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it meant she hadn’t managed to screw up this trip in record time. Yet. 

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Roxy said, voice singsong, as she put her bag in Strider’s hands so she could link her arm with Kanaya’s. 

During the drive to his apartment, Mr. Strider – who insisted to be called either Dirk or Bro or nothing at all – informed Kanaya that she had, in fact, spent months conversing with a computer. A computer program, to be more precise, that was both self-aware and irritating beyond belief, having been designed with Dirk’s brain as the baseline. Given that Dirk was much more interested in his current hobbies – DJ gigs and niche kink pornography – and that Roxy preferred to code and design software than run the company, said computer program was also the real C.E.O. of Skaia Net and all dependent companies. Kanaya didn’t know whether she should be impressed or disturbed by the news. In the end, she was saved the trouble by Dirk firing off a scathing Hal 9000 remark and settled to be amused instead. 

At least that kept her from thinking about the fact she was going to meet Roxy’s son in a few minutes, and that she had absolutely no idea what to expect. 

Dave turned out to be a quiet boy wearing a replica of Dirk’s sunglasses – to whom he referred consistently as ‘Bro’ – that seemed to circle Kanaya more than a little warily while she pretended hard not to notice. She felt a bit awkward as Roxy and Dirk toured the apartment, Roxy firing off commentary about this or that and Dirk snipping back without skipping a beat. There was obvious chemistry and affection between them, for all they enjoyed tearing at each other ruthlessly, and Kanaya felt horribly out of place amidst that much sarcasm and irony. She was saved from further awkwardness when a little hand shoved a Santa had into her hands. 

“’s the rules,” Dave said, quiet almost to the point of sullenness. “Gotta wear yours in the house til Christmas day.” 

“Really?” Kanaya offered a tentative smile before putting the hat on her head, trying not to upset her hair too much. “Like this?” 

“No,” Dave’s fingers twitched, so Kanaya bent down until he could reach her head. “You gotta wear it _ironically_.” 

Irony she was quickly realizing, was a big thing in the Strider household. 

“I’m not really good at being ironic,” she told him, smiling even as he tilted the hat to his satisfaction, looking pleased with himself as she stood up straight again. 

“I can tell,” he shrugged, unrepentant. “But you ought to be nice anyway, since Mom likes you.” 

“Well, I’m willing to learn, if you know anyone willing to teach.” 

He reminded her of Porrim’s youngest boy. Which was great, because that was the only type of children she was moderately good with. All she had to do was not to patronize him, and it’d be alright. She focused on that, which she knew more or less how to handle, instead of the fact _he was Roxy’s son_. He looked the part, too. He had her nose and her ears and the way he spoke, when he could be bothered to string more than three words in a row, was very reminiscent of Roxy’s little rambles. It was adorable and it hurt Kanaya somewhere she hadn’t known she could be hurt. She didn’t want to think about his sister or the way Roxy’s eyes softened when she looked at him or the fact this entire situation was wholly too real and too surreal all at once. 

“Bro’s a master of irony,” Dave said, unable to fully mask the hero-worship in his voice. 

“Ah, but isn’t there anyone else?” Kanaya arched an eyebrow at him, meaningfully. “You know, someone willing to take in a total newbie and prepare her for the big leagues. Your Bro is a little intimidating.” 

Dave gave her a look too calculative for his age, before he reached to grab her hand. 

“He intimidates everyone except Mom,” he tugged on her, leading her towards his room. “But that’s because she’s Mom, so it’s okay. Do you want to see my pictures?” 

She said yes and he showed her a collection of instant photographs of people, garbage, stray cats and birds. Lots and lots of birds. She was also treated to a long exposition on the ironic values of weird things stuck inside jars, shitty swords and the word rad. Kanaya decided that Dave was probably a very odd child, all things considered, but he was bizarrely charming for it. Dinner was still a tentative affair, but once Dave was subtly sent to bed, Dirk relaxed enough to resemble more and more the Strider Kanaya knew, and she found herself fully drawn into the conversation. It felt good, the way they asked for her input and didn’t wave off her opinions even when they didn’t agree with them. She felt silly for thinking it, but it all seemed very… adult to her. She liked that she didn’t feel so inadequate, and the feeling of contentment was enough to carry her through the awkwardness of sharing a bed with Roxy. 

“Thank you for bringing me along,” Kanaya said quietly, lying next to her after Roxy was done cracking jokes about preserving her virtue. 

“Thank you for letting me bring you along,” she countered, reaching a hand to brush some hair off Kanaya’s face. “I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

“It’s certainly going to be the most interesting Christmas I’ve ever had,” Kanaya chuckled, letting her eyes slide shut. 

She woke up the next morning with Roxy wrapped around her like weed, and yet found she was oddly at peace with the universe at large. The rest of her stay at the Strider household was similarly as pleasant, if particularly bizarre. Dirk brought everyone hideous sweaters to match their Christmas hats, Roxy made homemade eggnog that tasted more like illegal moonshine and Dave took fifteen different pictures of Kanaya, all of which he gave to Roxy with far more magnanimousness than a child his age should be able to. Kanaya called her parents and her sister from the roof of the apartment building, spluttering a little when her mother made one or two remarks suspiciously too close to home and reassuring her sister that she was not mad at her for cancelling their plans at the last minute. 

She was still scared, both of what the relationship might bring and the pace at which it moved, but she promised herself to enjoy it, whatever it might bring. 

  


* * *

  


“I really want to have sex with you.” 

Kanaya hastened to pat Roxy’s back, after she’d nearly inhaled her drink in surprise. Kanaya dared say nothing about Roxy’s drinking, feeling it was really not her place to pass judgment on her, but she was quietly happy to notice Roxy was sober, more often than not, whenever they agreed to meet. And sometimes they chatted late at night and the pink text became nearly unintelligible by the sheer amount of typos and the rawness of the conversation would have once made Kanaya feel seventy different levels of inadequate, but little by little the feeling had receded. It wasn’t just that Roxy treated her like an adult, she realized, as she began preparing for her last term with an odd sense of gravity, it was that she _was_ an adult. And it was not just a paper that told her so, or her age, or a law. It was a privately earthshattering realization that caught her almost by surprise while she was grocery shopping and wondering what to make to bribe Vriska’s good humor after she found out where Kanaya spent her holiday break. 

It came hand in hand with the slow death of the euphoria surrounding her relationship with Roxy. She was still in love with her, of course, and she still got excited when they go out and had long, mixed conversations about nothing in particular. It was just that Kanaya began to realize how much of Roxy’s cheer was a genuine part of her personality, and how much of it was a well-practiced performance for the sake of keeping her emotions in check. She began to see through the wall of sheer charisma, to see the occasional sadness and the longing and the things that Roxy tried to hid because they weren’t cheerful or quirky or cutesy. Kanaya was pretty sure the girlish charm really was part if not the basis of Roxy’s personality, but she began to realize that when she was sad or upset or worried about something, she tended to up the act a notch, almost as if to compensate for it. It was a little worrisome, and strangely, a little reassuring too. Because Roxy wasn’t a wall of unmovable perfection all the time that could solve the impossible even with more vodka than blood in her veins. She wasn’t always flawlessly stylish and precisely paced. She had bad hair days and bad days in general, and Kanaya was the one person she felt comfortable talking about them with. 

“Well,” Roxy said, once she was done coughing up a lung, “you are officially queen of the non sequitur. I’m never going to beat that one.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kanaya smiled in a way that implied she wasn’t _entirely_ sorry, “it just occurred to me that I never told you that.” 

“I thought it was implied on the girlfriend bit,” Roxy mused wryly, head doing that bird-like tilt again. “Wasn’t it?” 

Feelings were complicated and irrational and dumb, sometimes, and Kanaya wasn’t sure she could handle them at all, but she could at least try. She offered Roxy a smile and tugged on her so they could continue walking down the path. Roxy liked the cold and Kanaya still found it a novelty even after all her time living there, so after coming home from Texas, they had taken to explore both the campus and the forest-like park in town. Roxy screwed the lid on her thermos shut and absently shoved it back into her bag. 

“It was. Is.” Kanaya shrugged as they linked their arms together and began walking again. “I just felt like telling you, that’s all.” 

“I would very much like to have sex with you, Kanaya,” Roxy chuckled wryly, falling into step with her with ease. “I’ve been trying to keep things slow as you asked me to, that’s all.” 

After Christmas, they had talked long and awkward about where their relationship was heading, what they wanted from it and what they were willing to get from it. It was a very circular set of conversations, mostly because Roxy just wanted to make Kanaya feel comfortable and Kanaya just wanted to measure up to Roxy’s standards. And once they looked past the more obvious things, like the trip to Texas or the heavy-handed flirting and teasing they included more often now, they became aware that their relationship seemed to be more of a corollary to their friendship than anything else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, of course, since they both enjoyed their friendship terribly. They talked about science and fashion and the weather and what a smartass computer Strider was, with the same ease they talked about far more personal things, like Roxy’s feelings about her family and Kanaya’s fond complaints about Vriska. But for every bit of certainty Kanaya felt about where she stood with Roxy, she felt another stab of inadequacy about it. 

If pressed, Kanaya wasn’t entirely sure she could put to words what she wanted or expected from the relationship, and the mercurial nature of it only served to make her fret. She was no stranger to sex, on its own, but her experience with actual relationships was nebulous at best. All of them had ended up in drama or scandal or very sour departures that cost her friendships and tore at her social group. And by virtue of Roxy’s age, she felt acutely aware that this wasn’t supposed to be anything like her high school melodrama. She just wasn’t sure what it _was_ supposed to be. There was no real frame of reference, and part of the reason why Kanaya had decided to study science was because it was in her nature to work with frame of references and build things up from a solid foundation. Her propensity to fear disappointment and the occasional attack of insecurity wasn’t doing her any favors. On the other hand, she’d call Roxy or poke her online and chat about just about anything and feel reassured and silly for her own doubts. At heart, Kanaya felt she was very good at being friends with Roxy, and that perhaps she would not be too terrible at having sex with Roxy, but the word relationship implied things she didn’t quite grasp and that was quietly but surely driving her up a wall. And that wasn’t even getting into the whole mess of feelings and other strong words like ‘love’, that utterly obliterated any semblance of rationality she strove for. 

“You must think I’m very silly,” Kanaya smiled faintly, as they started making their way back to her car. “The way I’m always talking about things like this.” 

“I think you can be endearingly silly sometimes,” Roxy shrugged, looking up at the sky with a smile of her own. “But I appreciate that you talk to me about your feelings. Despite what you might think, I really don’t know what I’m doing, myself.” Her voice lowered in volume, taking on a sad note that tugged at Kanaya’s heartstrings. “For all I enjoy your company and want this to work out well, I’m afraid I’m going to cause you undue grief at some point.” 

“I drive myself crazy rather well on my own, really,” Kanaya admitted, looking at her feet and the snow getting crunched under them. “I just want to make you happy.” 

“Kanaya.” Roxy stopped and tugged Kanaya around until she was facing her. “You do make me happy, darling. You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years. I don’t think you understand all the wonderful things you’ve introduced me to.” Kanaya’s eye slid half-mast when Roxy leaned in to press her lips against her. “I only hope I make you happy too.” 

“You do,” Kanaya whispered the words straight into Roxy’s lips, slowly wrapping her arms around her. "I’m just being silly.” 

“That’s alright,” Roxy tilted her chin to press another kiss to Kanaya’s cheek, “we can be silly together. I know things have been a little hectic, but I meant it when I said we don’t have to rush. We both rather like to talk, don’t we? So let’s just talk until we figure things out.” She kissed Kanaya again, deeper then, until Kanaya tasted the tang of coffee and vodka in her own tongue. “And maybe figure things out without talking, too.” 

“It is really unfair,” Kanaya mused, more to herself than to Roxy, despite her smile, “that you manage to be this perfect all the time.” 

“The trick is not to be perfect,” Roxy laughed, pulling back enough so that Kanaya could get the full effect of her wink. “It’s just spending the time convincing people that being you is the epitome of perfection.” 

“So basically,” Kanaya deadpanned, “judicious use of misdirection.” 

“Pretty much,” Roxy grinned deviously, “I take it it’s working well with you?” 

“Unfairly so,” Kanaya sighed and started walking again, smile widening as Roxy’s hand found hers again. 

“I’d usually say you need to stop overthinking everything, but I think in context that is a pretty bad thing for me to say,” Roxy looked suitably sheepish, with only served to make Kanaya laugh. “Considering we’re talking about you, me and sex, so… think it over as much as you want?” 

“I’m thinking I want lunch and then to go on a horribly self-indulgent fabric shopping spree.” 

“Ooh, am I going to get fabulous clothes made by my loving girlfriend out of that?” Roxy arched her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Maybe,” Kanaya tried hard not to smile, “though I distinctly remember someone telling me I’m supposed to try and work clothes _off_ my girlfriend, not on.” 

“Ka _na_ ya!” 

  


* * *

  


“Why is there a fat cat sitting on my game rack?” Kanaya looked up from her laptop to find Vriska glowering at her from the doorway. “And why the fuck is there a cat on your head?” 

Kanaya smiled sheepishly as she reached up to remove the kitten happily lounging on her head and braced herself for what could only end up with Vriska throwing a tantrum. 

“That would be Frigglish,” she said, in her most even tone, and then raised the kitten for Vriska to see, “and this is Mutie.” 

“And this is me waiting for you to answer the question,” Vriska replied, eye narrowed menacingly. 

“I’m looking after them for Roxy while she’s out for the week,” Kanaya said primly, tilting her chin up and all but daring Vriska to comment on it. 

Vriska, being Vriska, took her on it without skipping a beat. 

“Look, okay, fuck it,” she threw her hands up in the air. “I said nothing when you started dating that self-absorbed, rude bitch—“ 

“That’s a lie and you know it.” 

“—Because if you want to date someone like that and get screwed over when she gets bored of your stupid ass, that’s your choice.” Vriska looked almost as if she wanted to stomp her foot. “But I draw the fucking line on it actually messing up with my life!” 

“Honestly, Vriska,” Kanaya arched an eyebrow, “they’re cats, not the end of the world. And I’ve told you please to refrain from using that language to refer to Roxy.” 

“I will call it as I see it until the day I die!” Vriska snapped back. “And just cats? _Just cats?_ What’s this, Maryam?” She shook a white cushion covered in black fur with one hand, looking livid. “This is what your fucking cats are doing to my life!” 

“Nothing a quick roll in the washing machine won’t fix?” Kanaya arched an eyebrow, purposely obtuse. “Good to know it’s nothing serious, I was getting worried.” 

Vriska let out a short shriek of annoyance and threw the cushion at Kanaya’s head, who ducked out of the way, and then stomped into her room, making sure to slam the door as loud as possible. Kanaya scoffed and rolled her eyes as she picked the cushion on and inspected it carefully. It wouldn’t even need a wash, really. She didn’t expect Vriska to take the cats’ presence gracefully – Vriska seem capable of only being graceful when she was being violent – but she was clearly exaggerating. And it didn’t help that she had a knack for telling Kanaya out loud what she’d sometimes think in private. It didn’t help any with that battle with insecurity Kanaya was currently engaged in. Mutie meowed as she nosed about Kanaya’s books, which were spread all over her bed as she worked on her homework. She reached a hand to pet the tiny head, grinning to herself as the cat tried to paw her fingers. After a moment, however, she pulled her hand away and slid off the bed with a sigh. She couldn’t keep putting this off forever, really, and it had been two months. Something had to be done. 

“Vriska?” Kanaya knocked on her roommate’s door. After a moment of silence, she let out another sigh and opened the door. “We need to talk.” 

“Unless that talk involves you telling me how you’re sending those fucking cats back where they came from, we have nothing to talk about.” 

“Roxy’s house is being painted and Mutie is too small to be left on her own,” Kanaya explained, trying to keep herself calm and to sound reasonable. “I offered to take her in, and Frigglish too, while I was at it, since he mostly just lays around doing nothing.” 

“What the fuck ever,” Vriska muttered snidely, looking away. “You always do whatever the fuck you want without thinking about others.” 

“I think we both know that’s a lie, Vriska,” Kanaya’s lips hardened into a thin, unamused line. “But it plays into what I wanted to talk with you about, namely your attitude about my relationship with Roxy.” 

“What about it?” Vriska snorted, folding her arms over her chest. “Can’t take someone telling you the truth about it?” 

“What I can’t take is my roommate slandering and insulting the woman I love out of some petty, vindictive nonsense,” Kanaya snapped back, expression firm. “A woman, I might add, whom you do not personally know, and whom you have spurned constantly, despite several attempts to both meet and befriend you.” 

“I tried, didn’t I?” Vriska’s eye narrowed unpleasantly. “Or what, I’m the only one here that still remembers how she stood you up? Oh right, you went to lick her clit the next day and somehow begged enough to get into a relationship, right.” 

“It’s not like that,” Kanaya’s tone was frosty enough that it made Vriska startle a little, “and I will thank you if you take your fucking assumptions about what did or did not happen that weekend and shove them up your entitled, whiny _ass_.” 

“Kanaya—“ 

“No!” Kanaya clenched her fists tightly, all but vibrating with anger. “You will shut up and you will stop acting like a child, Vriska Serket, or so help me god, I will make you.” Vriska stared at her, at loss for words. _Good!_ Kanaya thought, surprisingly vindictive. “She makes me _happy_ , you stupid child. She makes me _unbelievably_ happy, and you will not ruin this for me, nor will you turn it into some ridiculous competition like you do everything else. She’s sweet and kind and fun and it’s perfectly alright if you don’t like her! I don’t like half the people you date, but I have the decency not to make a scene out of it. Yes, she made a mistake and she’s made it up to me and I have forgiven her for it. She would gladly make it up to you, as well, and seek your forgiveness, but you won’t even let her try! Is it so hard for you to believe that she might have had a reason not to show up that day?” 

“If it’s such a fucking good reason why the fuck won’t you tell me?” Vriska bristled again, hanging onto the one possible hook she had to argue back. She hated losing any argument, Kanaya knew, which was why fighting with her was so exhausting. She hated losing, period, and she hated being proven wrong even more. “I’m trying to understand but you refuse to tell me why, so what else am I supposed to think, except that you’re being stupid and letting yourself be played by an old crone who just wants you for sex?” 

Kanaya was silent for a moment, anger making her blood rush in her ears. She contemplated her argument briefly, knowing she was aiming for the throat with it. She decided, between one heartbeat and the next, that she didn’t care. 

“That maybe I’m not telling you for the exact same reason I never tell anyone who asks, how you lost that eye,” she said, tone venomously angry, “because it’s not my fucking place to tell!” 

She savored the look of shock on Vriska’s face, knowing full well she’d feel guilty as hell about it as soon as she cooled down enough to think straight again. Before Vriska could come up with a suitable reply, Kanaya turned on her heel and stormed back into her room, resisting the urge to slam the door shut just as Vriska had done a few minutes prior. She tried to go back to work, but ended up surfing the web instead, too upset to write papers, and instead cuddled Mutie in her lap until she fell asleep, purring soothingly. 

About an hour later, Vriska opened the door and walked in, sullen. She was carrying a tub of Kanaya’s favorite icecream, which she then offered her solemnly. Kanaya let out a long sigh as she accepted it and then helped Vriska shove the books and notebooks to the side, so they could sit on the bed, icecream sitting innocently between them. 

“I always have to expect the worst of people,” Vriska said after a moment, as she gave Kanaya a spoon, “because you’re fucking stupid and always expect the best of them. And then I forget that sometimes you’re actually right and they’re not _all_ assholes out to get you, because most of the time you’re wrong and if I don’t knock sense into you, you get hurt. And then who’s the one who has to put up with the sob stories and the bullshit? Me.” 

Kanaya savored her icecream, and reminded herself that she couldn’t change Vriska, no matter how much she tried. She was rude and crass and violent, and she was also her best friend, for better or for worse. She took another spoonful before silently accepting the roundabout apology, and gave her roommate a shaky, small smile. 

“I hate fighting with you,” she said, wary, “it’s exhausting.” 

“Then don’t,” Vriska snorted, as if it were really that simple. Kanaya supposed that for Vriska, it really _was_ that simple. There was a small pause. “I suppose I could trust your judgment, just this once, and give your sugar mama a second chance.” 

“I would very much appreciate it if you did,” Kanaya’s smile softened, as Vriska reached the limits of her self-control and reached for the icecream with her own spoon. 

“I still reserve the right to hate her fucking guts, though.” 

  


* * *

  


“That’s alright, I’ve had enough.” 

Kanaya blinked in surprise, then felt a little bad for doing so, as she pulled the wine bottle away from Roxy’s glass. Dinner was almost over, and Kanaya was looking forward to a few hours cuddling on the couch and maybe a nice make out session before the universe threw something at them that forced them to stop before they got any further than that. It was what she’d come to expect from her dates with Roxy as of late, and it wasn’t that she disliked it, really, it was just that she was reaching cartoonish levels of sexual frustration. It seemed that the moment they agreed to up the ante, the universe decided to get in the way. Vriska forgot her keys and needed Kanaya to go open the door for her. A very important call came in and Strider insisted Roxy couldn’t ignore it. Little and big things that got in the way and ruined the mood to the point Kanaya ended up excusing herself after it happened. 

“Go on,” Roxy said, teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Ask me why.” 

“Why?” Kanaya was a little too distracted by the way Roxy’s eyes seemed to be all but glowing, so the word came out almost on reflex. 

“Because I’m going to ask you to spend the night, and nothing short of you saying no is going to change that.” She tilted her head slightly to the side, “are you going to say no, darling?” 

Logically, there was a progression of events that led from the dinner table to the stairs to Roxy’s bedroom. Kanaya was certain that at some point, she’d answered Roxy’s question with actual words, but the precise elements were slowly being eroded from her consciousness, to be lost forever from her memory. Because she was lying back on Roxy’s bed and Roxy was kissing her and Roxy’s hand was sneaking under the hem of her blouse and the buildup to this made everything bright and powerful. The world narrowed down, slowly and surely, until the only thing that mattered was the puzzle of Roxy’s buttons and the feeling of her lips against Kanaya’s collarbone. 

“Haven’t done this in a while,” Roxy said, as Kanaya worked to fit those elegant, square buttons through their respective holes. “So I’m going to need some vocal input here, if you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t really…” Kanaya felt herself flushing, and it had nothing to do with the fact she’d won her fight against Roxy’s shirt and was not staring at her bra. “I’ll let you know if I don’t like something?” 

Kanaya fiddled with the shirt, feeling the fabric between her fingers as she concentrated on Roxy’s face and not the urge to just _touch_. One of Roxy’s knees was resting on her skirt, right between her thighs, leaving Kanaya unable to really move her legs at all. And suddenly every inch of skin was alert, sending entirely too much information to her brain. She could feel the texture of her clothes on her skin, the slight chill in the air and the maddening _lack_ of Roxy’s skin on it. 

“That’s a pretty broad consent check, darling,” Roxy teased, holding herself bent over Kanaya, blond hair glossy and as distracting as the curve of her smile. “What if I bring out the big, kinky guns, eh?” 

“So bring them,” Kanaya let go of the shirt to loop her arms around Roxy’s neck. “I’ll try them if you want to and I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” She tugged Roxy down, pressing her lips against hers. “I’m not scared _of_ you, just _for_ you.” 

“I don’t think you understand,” Roxy whispered back, between kisses that grew progressively less languid and more frantic, “just how much I want you right now.” 

“Then show me,” Kanaya said, swallowing hard before she nipped Roxy’s bottom lip. 

She did. Kanaya arched up into the mouth carefully pressing tiny, loving kisses along her throat, a muted moan ghosting the back of her throat. She wasn’t being shy, for once; she really never made much noise when it came to sex, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. She liked the way Roxy touched her, too, with both hands and lips, like she was something precious and worth exploring. It made something warm coil in her chest, to match the warmth spreading between her legs. And then, she gathered up her wits and pressed her fingers against Roxy’s sides, just above the indent of her waist. Kanaya was rather pleased by the sound Roxy made when she ran her hands up along her ribs up until she encountered her bra, and then slowly trailed along the edge of it, until she was cupping her breasts in her hands. 

Roxy found she could coax a soft noise out of Kanaya’s throat that she swore up and down sounded like a mewl, if she thumbed the swell of her breasts and Kanaya discovered that Roxy was ticklish pretty much everywhere. But the slow, teasing pace shifted when Roxy rolled onto her side and pulled Kanaya along with her. Kanaya leaned in to kiss a nipple, half hidden by the low cut of Roxy’s underwear, and didn’t allow her mind to go off on a tangent about that, least she ended up more interested in lace than she was on skin. The change in position freed Kanaya’s legs, so she could balance herself into a comfortable position from which to lave love and attention on Roxy’s chest. Or so was the original plan, until a hand reached her skirt and began hiking it up, bunching it around her waist. She had expected Roxy to try and get it off – it was just a side button and a zipper, really – but she felt oddly exposed that way, goosebumps breaking all along the skin of her legs. She was certain she wouldn’t feel that way, if Roxy would just remove the skirt, so part of her was thrilled when she made no motion towards that. There was a pause, as Roxy reached back to unhook the bra, and then Kanaya was staring at those breasts without obstructions, despite the fact Roxy didn’t actually take the shirt off. Roxy seemed to be waiting her reaction, holding still and almost not breathing. Kanaya answered her by taking a nipple into her mouth and all but purring in delight when Roxy cried out. She curled her tongue against it as it slowly hardened in her mouth, so by the time she released it, it was a small, glistening nub. 

The coil of warmth in Kanaya’s gut exploded into wet heat when she felt cool, elegant fingers slide inside her panties, tugging them down a little from the bunched up skirt still caught around her waist. She whimpered against the skin of Roxy’s breast, when those fingers reach for the folds of skin that felt swollen and hot and _wet_. 

“Big, kinky gun number one,” Roxy whispered into the crown of Kanaya’s head, just as her fingers traced the length of her labia, “the only thing I like more than pretty clothes, are pretty clothes getting utterly ruined during this.” Kanaya gasped as those fingers spread her open just enough to taunt. “Are you game?” 

Kanaya kissed her hard and prepared to give back as good as she got. 

“Do your worst.” 

Roxy did, dipping her fingers into Kanaya just barely enough to gathers some of that moisture and then used the lubrication to ease the friction as she began to tease her in earnest. Not to be outdone, Kanaya returned her mouth to Roxy’s breasts, slowly working a spiral circling out from the nipple to the base. She bit, delicately enough not to hurt, more than once, just to hear Roxy’s breath skip a beat and a soft squeal slide past her lips. Kanaya told herself repeatedly that this was not a competition, for all they both teased about it. It became clearer when Roxy pulled her hand away to tease her chest, and the contrast in sensation helped Kanaya stop fretting. She arched her back and felt herself flush in embarrassment when she realized she was rocking against Roxy’s thigh, leaving a damp, tale telling trail on her skin with every roll of her hips. And then she was getting kissed again, with Roxy echoing every bit of hunger and need rolling in her gut, so Kanaya finally let go of her inhibitions and told her nerves to wait until she was done. 

Roxy felt the change of demeanor and moaned appreciatively, especially when the hands working on her skin became a lot less tentative and a lot more purposeful. Without her nervousness getting in the way, it became pretty obvious that Kanaya had far more experience in this field than Roxy did. Her fingers pressed just hard enough, along her skin, testing out the places that made Roxy moan or whimper or cry out. When her hand slid between her legs, there was no hesitation in the way she touched and teased, fanning the wet heat pulsing there with an ease that made Roxy’s toes curled. She realized, somewhat fuzzily, that she was going to need those big, kinky guns to keep up, when she orgasm caught her almost by surprise. 

So she did. 

  


* * *

  


The moment Kanaya saw the way Roxy held the marker, she realized she had committed a tactical mistake. Because every single line of her girlfriend’s body screamed _Vriska_ to her mind and the alarms were going off too fast for her to properly put to words the sinking realization that she’d unwittingly unleashed a monster. 

“This is going to be fun,” Roxy said, grin devious as she pulled the mask over her face. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because I love you!” 

“I love you too,” Kanaya said, a little weakly, as Roxy trotted away to introduce herself to the rest of her team. 

She looked down at her own mask a little forlornly and let out a controlled breath. Jade and Jake had organized a paintball game as their latest scheme to fund the theater company. Vriska, for once, had taken on the idea with undue excitement, and bullied Kanaya into inviting Roxy along for the sake of finally meeting her properly. Kanaya had expected Roxy to decline, but her girlfriend had been rather excited by the prospect instead. Stupidly, Kanaya had signed the three of them up for entirely different teams, not realizing until it was too late that rather than keep the three apart, it would meant pitching them against each other. She just hoped no one ended up in the hospital. 

She was eliminated fairly early on, having no real experience with anything even remotely resembling the marker and failing somewhat to grasp the stealth-side of the game. Vriska was a natural at this, though, Kanaya noted from her perch on the stands where the other ‘dead’ players and a sizeable audience had gathered. But Roxy… yeah, Roxy was kind of brutal. She snipped people out with practice that rivaled Jade’s, the best shooter in Kanaya’s team, dodging in and out of cover and acting like she was in a movie or one of Vriska’s video games. It was ridiculous and kind of hot, all at once, while Kanaya silently hoped someone would get Vriska before Roxy did, because she was pretty sure that would just end up in murder. Mercifully, it was Jade who took out Vriska, seconds before Roxy took _her_ out. Kanaya let out a sigh of relief as the match ended. Vriska already hated Jade, anyway. 

“You’re a professional marksman, aren’t you,” Jade deadpanned, after all the markers had the stoppers in place and she could take off her mask. 

Roxy grinned at Jade with all her teeth and it distracted Kanaya enough that she only blushed a little when Roxy threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

“It’s been a few years,” Roxy said, all but dripping charm, “but you know how it is, you never forget the important things.” 

“You shot me from across the field, I was looking at you, and you hit my badge.” Jade turned to Kanaya, shaking her head and expression melting into a delighted grin. “Kanaya, you’re dating either a secret agent or a hitman and she’s cute and I like her and that’s not faaaaair.” 

Before Kanaya could say anything, Vriska entered her field of vision, looking surly and slouching in a way that was apparently meant to make her look tough. Jade took one look at Vriska’s expression and excused herself, having long given up the fight with her. Kanaya sympathized, fighting Vriska was _exhausting_. Unfortunately, she couldn’t run, so she casually wrapped an arm around Roxy’s waist and braced herself. 

“So you’re Lalonde,” Vriska said, her entire demeanor unimpressed. 

“And you must be the charming, Miss Serket,” Roxy replied, smiling easily and refusing to raise to the bait, like Kanaya had advised her to. “Pleasure to meet you, finally.” 

Vriska hated not getting the type of attention she wanted, true, but Kanaya was pretty sure no one wanted her to get the type of attention she was aiming for, using that tone. Kanaya was almost distracted enough by it to not notice the undertone in Roxy’s voice. Almost, but not enough, and she narrowed her eyes a little, feeling like she was about to walk into the middle of a warzone. 

“I’m sure it is,” Vriska said arrogantly, tossing her head back with a calculated gesture that Kanaya recognized, bizarrely enough, from her LARPing escapades. And then Vriska turned to her, arching an eyebrow. “You’ve got paint in your hair, Maryam.” 

Kanaya narrowed her eyes at her roommate, as if to telegraph to her that she knew perfectly well she had no paint in her hair and that whatever Vriska was planning Kanaya deeply disapproved of. And then Roxy smiled the Strider smile, as Kanaya had nicknamed it, because she’d first seen it on Dirk’s face. A devious, mischievous, almost malicious smile. One that meant that she was taking off her gloves and everything was fair game now. 

“You should clean that up before it dries, darling,” Roxy told Kanaya in the sweetest, most loving voice she could muster, “it’ll be worse later if you don’t.” 

Kanaya looked from one woman to the other for a long moment and then reminded herself that Roxy was a very grown up woman who knew what she was doing and that Vriska usually got exactly what she deserved, when it came down to it. 

“Please don’t set anything on fire,” she pleaded a little desperately, before she walked away to tend to the non-existent paint smears on her hair and allowed her girlfriend and her roommate to talk in private. 

When she came back, after taking decidedly longer than strictly necessary, Vriska was throwing her hands up in the air. Kanaya hurried back, but all she caught was the end of what she supposed had been a fabulous tirade. 

“You’re insufferable!” Her roommate snapped at Roxy’s unfaltering grin, then stormed away in apparent disgust. 

Kanaya gave Roxy an anxious look. 

“That was the most interesting shovel talk I’ve ever gotten in my life,” she said after a moment, smiling cryptically. Then she laughed at the horrified expression on Kanaya’s face. “It was also the first shovel talk I’ve ever gotten in my life, but somehow I feel meeting your parents can’t possibly be worse.” 

  


* * *

  


“Equius, darling, you’re doing the creeper looming thing, and while I think that’s an excellent way to keep the trained monkeys I call programmers in line, you’re doing it to my girlfriend and that’s a big no-no.” 

Kanaya arched both eyebrows as she finally noticed the tall, muscled young man standing by the wall. She felt a little sorry for him, given how violently he flushed and the way his forehead glistened with sweat. Though she was a little surprised she hadn’t noticed him first. He was tall and big and muscled and a little intimidating. Or he would be, if he weren’t falling all over himself to apologize. 

“Madam, I would never—“ 

“Oh, I’m just teasing you, silly boy,” Roxy grinned reassuringly, which had the opposite effect and only seemed to fluster him some more. “Now come here and let me introduce you properly.” He obeyed, albeit hesitantly. “Kanaya, darling, this is Equius Zahhak, he’s working on a very interesting Ph. D. thesis and he also sold his soul to me under the pretense of getting a job, but we both know he just wants to get some alone time with Strider.” The man flushed even more, which Kanaya had thought impossible. “Equius, this is Kanaya Maryam, my girlfriend and source of common sense.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, madam,” he said, voice low and controlled. 

“Likewise,” Kanaya ventured with a small smile, a little overwhelmed by the formality of his gestures and his words. Which was a novelty in and of itself, since she was used to being the formal one, in any given setting. “Please, call me Kanaya.” 

“I wouldn’t want to presume undue familiarity,” he replied, in a tone of voice that made Kanaya imagine he would be fidgeting nervously, if he didn’t consider such thing uncouth. 

“Isn’t he adorable?” Roxy grinned at Kanaya, just as Equius flushed yet again, right on cue. She sobered up slightly, though Kanaya wondered if Equius could even tell. “I wanted you two meet, since Kanaya has standing welcome to come and go through the house as she pleases, and most of Equius’ work will be done in the basement’s lab.” 

Kanaya had only ever been in there a few times, keeping Roxy company while she wrapped up this or that before a date. It was a labyrinth of computer equipment and wiring that housed, at the center of it all, Strider’s brain, for lack of better wording. Given how protective Roxy was of the A. I., she figured she must have been really impressed by Equius to let him get anywhere close to the red text monstrosity. 

“I will endeavor not to be an inconvenience,” he said, demure in a way that Kanaya couldn’t decide whether she liked or not. 

“I rarely go downstairs, so I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She offered him a light smile, hoping it looked encouraging. She turned to Roxy. “I’ll wait for you in the car, alright?” 

“I’ll be there in a moment.” 

“Alright,” Kanaya nodded and offered Equius another encouraging smile, “I will be seeing you around, then, Mr. Zahhak.” 

He seemed grateful for the formality with which she addressed him, which Kanaya took note of. She walked out into the front steps after leaving Roxy to finish talking with him about whatever it was they were discussing, and found herself smiling for no real reason. She supposed she had every reason to feel content. Her grades were looking good so far, her workload was bearable, her roommate was behaving herself, she had a beautiful girlfriend and a few interesting commissions to entertain herself with. After months of tentative pushing and pulling, Roxy had found her place in her life and Kanaya no longer fretted about her as much as she once had. 

“Ready when you are, darling,” Roxy called out as she stepped outside, carrying a bag. “He’s settled in, I think, and hopefully Strider won’t drive him to tears in the first hour.” 

“He seems like a nice man,” Kanaya said, as she slid into the driver’s seat. 

“He’s fucking _brilliant_ ,” Roxy preened, eyes bright and sharp. Kanaya realized she had been sober for the better part of a month, now, at least judging from what she’d seen. “If I have it my way, he’ll help me break the company into the field of applied robotics. You wouldn’t believe the stuff he’s already done.” 

“I’m glad,” Kanaya smiled, genuinely glad to hear Roxy excited about her company as a whole, rather than isolated little tidbits of her personal work. “That would be wonderful.” 

“Yes,” Roxy leaned in to kiss Kanaya’s cheek just as she started the engine. “But today we’re going to have fun, so no more talk about business.” 

“I curse the day I let you and Jade meet,” Kanaya said in mock despair. 

Mostly because Roxy and Jade were both too smart for their own good and shared a terrible love for grandiose disasters. Kanaya was glad Roxy was making new friends and socializing without her, but after the paintball game, she and Jade became almost partners in crime. That day, Jade had invited both to another game, which was quickly turning into another of Roxy’s hobbies. She said the exercise was good for her, but Kanaya was pretty sure she just liked having an excuse to shoot people and show off a little. She didn’t really mind, to be honest, because there were few things Kanaya enjoyed more than Roxy all but glowing as she focused on something she enjoyed. But Vriska was always somehow involved, too, and Kanaya couldn’t help but brace herself for an explosion that never quite materialized. She wasn’t sure if Vriska and Roxy liked each other or just really like the idea of each other. They were certainly competitive enough, and Vriska brought out a side of Roxy Kanaya had not seen often. So far no one had actually gotten hurt, though, for which Kanaya was at least thankful. 

“You love me,” Roxy replied, voice a teasing singsong. “And I feel the urge to tell you how lucky and grateful I am for it.” 

“I do,” Kanaya said, softening her tone into fond exasperation. “But I’m still not bailing you out of jail if you and Harley set something on fire.” 

  


* * *

  


“Are you alright?” 

Kanaya looked up at Roxy, blinking as she saw the concern plainly written on her face. She leaned into kiss her almost on reflex, even though she was sated and tired and feeling mostly boneless as she lay next to her. 

“I’m okay,” she reassured her, smile tugging at her lips. 

“You got this expression on your face, though,” Roxy frowned, running her fingers through Kanaya’s hair, “the one you wear when you start thinking about something unpleasant.” 

“I was just thinking,” Kanaya said slowly, hesitantly, “finals are less than two weeks away.” Roxy made an encouraging noise in the back of her throat, and Kanaya shifted around to bury her face into Roxy’s shoulder. “And then there’s graduation. And whatever follows after that.” 

There was a heavy silence, then, because whatever followed after graduation was obviously Kanaya going back home. Her actual home, with her parents, in another country. Roxy let out a slow breath and ignored the sudden, crippling pain that wanted to burst forth at the idea of Kanaya gone. There would be no more lazy mornings after their dates, sharing showers and clothes and coffee with the same ease they had shared their bodies the night prior. There would be no walks and no talks and no meals spent arguing inconsequential nonsense. There would be no Kanaya to remind Roxy that life was, in fact, worth living. She had already known it would reach this point, of course. The upside of being sober most of the time now was that there was nothing standing between her brain and reality, and she really wasn’t a genius just for nothing. But she had shoved the thought out of her mind for the longest time, because it was the one thing that drove her to drink: a big damn problem she couldn’t fix, because while it affected her, it wasn’t hers to fix. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t say anything,” Roxy said after a moment, even as she curled around Kanaya almost possessively. “That I should let you make up your mind on your own.” 

“I’m scared,” Kanaya confessed, very, very quietly, “and I don’t know what I want to do.” 

“Anything you do will be the right thing.” Roxy pressed a kiss to Kanaya’s forehead, pulling her even closer. “You’ll see.” 

“I miss home,” Kanaya admitted, guiltily. “I miss my parents and my cousins and my uncles and my aunts. I miss everything I left behind there, but I also know that once I get there I’m going to miss everything I leave behind here.” She licked her lips. “And I don’t even know what I’d do, without you there. I want my family back, but I also want this, and I can’t have it both ways.” 

The silence stretched, as Kanaya fought to put her messy, rolling emotions in check, and Roxy could almost hear the cogs in her head shifting. She let her hands slide over Kanaya’s skin, gently, as if she could wipe off the complicated thoughts making her shake a little. 

“I could go with you, if you wanted,” Roxy said slowly, smile thin and tentative. 

“Oh, I could never ask you to do such a thing,” Kanaya replied, pulling away from the embrace to look properly scandalized. 

Part of Roxy’s brain thought it was a little funny, considering all the scandalous things they had just done and the fact there was a trail of small bites still somewhat visible going down from Kanaya’s left breast to her navel and beyond. The rest of her brain shut down that train of thought and put it on hold, because this conversation was much more important than anything else she could think of. 

“You’re not asking,” Roxy replied, shrugging slightly and shifting to lie on her side. “I’m offering.” There was a pause. “And I know I’m potentially being creepy and possessive again, but I want you to remember that the option’s on the table if you want to take it.” 

“You have a life here,” Kanaya argued back, frowning. “Friends and a house and a _family_. I’m fairly certain that if anyone should be offering to move, it should be me, since I am nowhere near as well established as you are.” 

“You’re making it sound like you’re dating someone else, darling, because we both know that’s not true. The house can be sold, or not, upkeep doesn’t even make a dent on my monthly income. I don’t have any friends I am particularly close to, or whose friendship I couldn’t continue through e-mail.” She took a deep breath. “I see my son three times a year and frankly, flying in is the same from here or anywhere else in the world.” She reached a hand to caress the side of Kanaya’s face, but Kanaya caught it before she could, grasping it between her own hands and pressing it against her heart. “I’m not well established and you know that. And even if I were, it would be very unfair of me to ask you to settle down without giving you a chance to establish yourself to your leisure first. I know I don’t often act my age, Kanaya, but if someone knows the value of personal experience is me. When I was your age, I wanted to see the world and try everything. The success I achieved is not only the result of me being pretty fucking brilliant, you know? It’s also because I had a chance to take risks and figure out my place in the world. I want you to do that. I want you to decide for your own what you want to do with your life, because I know you’re a bright, talented young woman who could pretty much do anything she felt like doing.” 

“But I love you,” Kanaya said, at loss for anything else to reply to that. 

“And I love you too, darling. That’s why I want the best for you.” Roxy pulled her hand back and used it to tug Kanaya down to lay next to her again. “I want you to find out what you want to do with your life, and I’ll be there if you want me to, but it has to be a choice _you_ make, on your own.” 

“What if what I want is this?” 

Roxy pressed her lips to Kanaya’s forehead again. 

“Then you can have it,” she smiled again, eyes soft. “But you won’t know if this is really what you want, until you try something else first.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Kanaya whispered against Roxy’s throat, shifting in her embrace. 

“Then we won’t, but promise me you’ll think about it.” 

  


* * *

  


Roxy pushed the sunglasses up into her hair. She watched Kanaya sitting on a blanket on the grass, with a woman she suspected, by her features, to be her mother. She took a moment to bask in the sight of the younger woman looking bright and happy, after not having seen her in so long. There was something wonderful, about watching Kanaya in her own space, that made her seem all the more confident and at peace with her place in the world. Roxy let out a small sigh and took a moment to gather aplomb before approaching them. The weather was very agreeable that day, which Roxy took as a good omen. She was willing to admit that she would take anything remotely positive at that moment, to be a good omen, if only because she was not used to being nervous. And she happened to be very nervous right then and there. 

“You would not _believe_ how many crying children they managed to pack in that flight.” 

Roxy grinned as Kanaya startled at the sound of her voice, and laughed as her face lit up in delight. She caught the younger woman in her arms, a bubble of something that might have tried to be fear bursting and getting lost in a sea of contentment. 

“Kanaya.” 

Roxy smiled wryly at Kanaya’s mother, noting with relief that she seemed to be smiling. That was a good thing, right? Roxy hoped so. Her smile straightened somewhat, as Kanaya tightened an arm around her. 

“Mama,” she said, “let me introduce you to my partner.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to pace this more as snippets, capturing moments from the year Kanaya and Roxy spent together, rather than trying to write a more cohesive flow, if only because otherwise this thing would have ended up about 50K longer. I'm not entirely sure I managed to pace it as well as I'd have liked, since it's not as fragmentary as I originally intended it to be, but at the same time, I feel the fact this is an AU it _can't_ be that fragmentary. Hopefully it still makes sense!


End file.
